


Too Close to Home

by 20SomethingSuperHeroes



Series: Bucky in Arizona [5]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Characters Watching Disney Movies, Characters Watching Star Wars, Conspiracy, Domestic, Hydra (Marvel), Inspired by Music, Music, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), SHIELD, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 13:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 66,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4961932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20SomethingSuperHeroes/pseuds/20SomethingSuperHeroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hillary Tanner gets sent home with a cold.  Hanging out with Bucky and introducing him to "Star Wars" seems like the perfect way to pass the time until she recovers.  However, everything turns upside down when a Hydra scout turns up in her backyard.  Bucky gets sent into hiding, and Hillary and her friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. must risk everything in order to destroy a local Hydra base that was growing under their noses...</p>
<p>Setting: Two months before the events of "The Avengers: Age of Ultron"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hillary's Chauffer

It had been nearly two weeks since Hillary’s surprise trip home. They were on assignment in Toronto, mostly doing paperwork. Nothing too exciting was happening, and just when Hillary was beginning to think it might stay that way, her throat started to feel dry and her eyes became watery. Mitch noticed her sniffling a little in the break room, and after she sneezed he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

Coulson noticed her by the break room fountain a while later getting a drink so she could swallow some motrin.

“Are you feeling all right, Agent Tanner?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I’m all right,” she said.

“You can be honest with me,” said Coulson.

“Well, it might be a cold,” she said. “But I hope it’s just allergies.”

“If you’re taking motrin at this point it might not be allergies,” he said. 

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll just...take it easy the rest of the day and drink some extra water. Maybe it’ll blow over.”

The next day, Hillary felt weak and dizzy. Coulson noticed she was slowing down and let her go to bed early. She hoped maybe that was all she needed, a little extra rest and it   
would blow over.

But when she woke up in her hotel room the following morning, it had not blown over. Her throat was parched, and she was coughing and her nose was plugged like a sink.

She stumbled into Coulson and Mitch’s room. 

“I’m not feeling very good,” she groaned.

“Good grief,” said Coulson, who was just putting on his tie. Mitch looked unnerved. “Are you running a fever?” 

“I don’t know,” said Hillary. “I feel...pretty warm, though.” She put a hand to her forehead. She did feel feverish, as a matter of fact.

“Sit down right here,” said Coulson, lowering her into his chair. “Mitch, get the first-aid kit out.”

Mitch got out a little black box from one of Coulson’s suitcases. He retrieved a thermometer from inside it and slipped a cover on the tip and handed it to Coulson. Coulson gave it to Hillary, who put it in her mouth.

“Do you think you’d feel better if you spent the day in bed?” asked Coulson.

“I don’t know,” said Hillary.

“We could run to the store and get you some things to make you more comfortable,” said Mitch.

Hillary shook her head. “I’d rather be at home to be sick, to be honest. I mean, yeah, it would be a waste of S.H.I.E.L.D. resources just to fly me home.”

“No, you’re more of a liability when you’re like this,” said Coulson. The thermometer beeped and he pulled it out. “Well, well, 101 degrees. Boiling. I think we’d better send you home. Mitch, see if you can book a flight to Phoenix for her direct.”

“Got it,” said Mitch, turning on his company smartphone. “There’s an AirCanada leaving at eleven.”

“Perfect,” said Coulson. “Do you need help packing?” 

“I’ll be fine,” muttered Hillary. But he followed her back to her room anyway, and as she sluggishly got dressed he stuffed her things into her suitcase and briefcase.

“I’m sorry, it won’t be very neatly packed,” Coulson said as he threw in her socks. 

“I’m not in a mood to fuss,” said Hillary as she blew her nose. She got her phone and texted her parents to say she was coming. 

Mitch called up room service to bring her breakfast and gave her some DayQuil to go with it. As her sinuses cleared and they drove from the hotel, she felt well enough to manage   
at the airport, but still fairly wimpy. 

“Just go home and get some rest,” said Coulson as he prepared to leave her at security. “Call us when you get there, and as soon as you’re feeling better we’ll fly you back out.”

“Thanks, Coulson,” said Hillary, wiping her nose again. She turned around and threw the tissue into the nearest trash can. She got some hand sanitizer from a table at security   
before flashing them her S.H.I.E.L.D. pass.

She kept her distance from the other passengers in the terminal. Before boarding, her father texted her back.

Sorry to hear you’re sick, honey. Your mom’s babysitting Maddie and Tyson today. But I will be sending someone else to pick you up. ;) 

On the plane she had the tender mercy of a window seat. A stewardess had a large heap of keenex to pick up when she came for the passengers’ trash. She mostly tried to sleep, but she was too miserable to do more than doze.

Hillary got herself through Sky Harbor airport all right. At the curb outside baggage check, she saw her car parked and waiting with someone familiar in the driver’s seat.

“Hello,” she said groggily to Bucky as she opened the back door.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling. “I hear you’re not feeling too well.”

“Shut up,” she said, throwing her suitcases and briefcases in the back. Then she got into the passenger seat. “Why the heck did Dad send you?”

“I volunteered,” said Bucky. “He was dealing with a pretty difficult job. I wasn’t doing anything. They send me out for small errands like this all the time.”

“Right. And you’re also a genetically-engineered super soldier who can’t get sick from me, so that makes you the perfect candidate for a nursemaid.” 

“If you say so,” said Bucky. They drove towards the Red Mountain Freeway.

“But don’t you know your drivers’ licence is fake?”

“A guy pulled me over on the way and he didn’t know the difference. He was looking for somebody else.” 

“Uh-huh,” said Hillary. Drug bust, she thought dully. “And where did you learn to drive?”

Bucky said nothing. 

“Did they teach you?” asked Hillary. “Or did you not forget?”

“I remembered enough,” said Bucky. “I did what I was told.”

There was a pause. “Sorry,” said Hillary. “Probably not the best time to -- “

“It’s okay,” said Bucky.

They made small chatter about each other’s jobs the rest of the way home, though Hillary’s speech came out a little disjointed from her feeling so woozy.

They finally pulled up to the Tanners’ garage door. Bucky grabbed two of Hillary’s three bags and led her to the back door. 

“Well, here we are,” said Bucky. “You’re home sweet home now.”

“Meeeh,” said Hillary.

“Anything I can do for you before I go back?” 

“Back where?”

“To the garage?”

“Oh, yeah, that,” said Hillary. “I think you’ve got it covered. Or, well, I’ve got it covered. I’ll just...go get changed.” She stumbled around slightly, making hand motions. 

“Right. I’ll just lock the door. You remember where the house key is, right?”

“Right,” she said. There was a small part of her brain wondering why the homeless vagrant her family had taken in last Thanksgiving was suddenly entrusted with the family’s   
vehicles and keys, but she was too sick to engage those thoughts.

“Right, well, you take care. Just text me or your dad if you need anything,” said Bucky. “I’ll be leaving now. Bye.”

“See ya,” said Hillary. He left, and she heard the door locking behind him as she went to her room. She threw her work clothes unceremoniously onto the floor and pulled on her   
pajamas. Then she heard a sound outside. Like someone tapping wood or glass. Her first thought was the screen door. She threw on her yellow bathrobe and went to the living   
room. The screen door blinds were wide open. She thought she saw someone running. She ran up to the doors and looked out just in time to see someone in a red jacket   
jumping the cinder-block fence.

Maybe it was just a burglar, she thought dully, but her instincts told her differently. She went back to her room to get a blanket, and she returned to the living room and slept on the couch, with the blinds drawn. 

She slept until her mother came home from Jon’s house. Her mother made her a pot of chicken noodle soup and some toast right away. 

Mudder the cat came and sniffed at her face and licked the prespiration from her water bottle. That was when Jo opened the screen door and let him outside.

She spent the better part of the afternoon on the couch alternating between watching Say Yes To The Dress and sleeping. Then at a quarter to six the back door opened, and her   
father entered, followed by Bucky. 

“Well, hello there,” she said.

“Hey,” said Trey, walking over to the couch to embrace her. “I hear my baby girl’s not doing very well.”

“I’m okay,” said Hillary weakly. “I feel like crud, though.”

“It sure was awfully nice of Coulson to send you home. I mean, trips home on alternate weekends are one thing, but sending you home when you’re sick is really generous.”

“I was running a fever. S.H.I.E.L.D. recently got an enormous stipend from Stark Industries.”

“Hm, well, you think he’d be putting it to different use,” said Jo. “I guess it pays when you make a good impression on your employer.”

“So what is it you’re sick with?” Bucky asked her, leaning over her couch curiously.

“It’s a cold virus,” said Hillary. “They call it that because it makes your temperature go down. It also stuffs your nose and you have blow it out every so often because you can’t   
breathe. Sometimes I cough, too, but thankfully this time it isnt’ so bad. It’s an affliction common to us who aren’t...well, human weapons.”

“I see,” said Bucky. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Aw, isn’t Bucky sweet?” said Jo. Hillary saw Bucky cringe. 

“You can help Mom make dinner, if you’d like to feel useful.” 

Bucky went to the kitchen area.

“What are we having for dinner, by the way?” asked Hillary.

“Chicken pot pie,” said Jo, placing some frozen vegetables out to thaw. “I could get you some more soup if you’d like.” 

“No, pot pie sounds great, Mom.” She changed the channel to TNT to watch Castle. 

Hillary ate her dinner from her reclining position on the couch while Bucky ate with her parents. 

After they were done, Jo came over to feel her forehead. “How are you feeling right now, sweetie?” she asked.

“I’m all right,” said Hillary. “I’m tired but I’m not sure I can sleep right now.”

“I can keep you company if you like,” said Bucky.

“What would you like to do?’ she asked.

“Well, what do you want to do?” 

“Let’s watch a movie,” she said. “I was just thinking, I haven’t seen Mean Girls for a while. It’s cute. I think you’ll like it.” 

So after the dishes were done, Hillary got off the couch to set up the TV and put in the movie. Her parents let Mudder back in the house and retired to their room. Bucky sat on   
the armchair to watch. 

“Interesting fact, I showed this movie to Steve Rogers once.”

Bucky scowled at her. “And what did he think of it?”

“I don’t think he was very impressed,” said Hillary. “He said he liked it, but I think the twenty-first century adult humor was a little too much for him. He had the same response   
to Pitch Perfect.” 

But Bucky thought Mean Girls was very hilarious. At it was much more fun, to have someone to share it with. Mudder came back into the living room while they were watching the movie. He sniffed around in the dark background for a while. Then he came up and and rubbed himself against Bucky. Bucky took the cat in his lap, stroking the long fur and holding him. Mudder accepted the affection for a few minutes, and then hopped away and curled on Hillary’s blankets for a while. She stretched out and petted Mudder with the tips of her fingers.


	2. A Crash Course in Star Wars

Bucky slept in Cody’s room and Hillary stayed on the couch. The next morning when she started to stir, she saw Bucky in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Are you awake?” he called to her. 

“I guess,” she groaned. “What time is it?” She rolled over to look at the living room clock, but her eyes were still blurry. 

“It’s eight forty-five.”

Her father usually went to work at eight.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked. 

“I told your dad I wanted to keep you company.”

“I might not be very good company if I’m asleep all day.”

“I know. But you’re mom’s going to be in and out today, running errands and stuff.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

“Entertain you, I guess. When you’re not sleeping. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” But she realized at that moment that she was incredibly thirsty.

Her mother entered from the bedroom. “Hillary, sweetie, how are you?” she called as she walked into the kitchen.

“Doing okay, I guess.”

“Can I get you something to eat?”

“Just some oatmeal.”

“I see how it is,” Bucky smirked as Jo opened a package of oatmeal into a bowl for Hillary. When it was in the microwave, she came over to the couch and checked Hillary’s  
forehead.

“Are you feeling any better honey?”

“A little. We’ll see how I feel when I’ve gotten up...gotten some cold meds in me.” Hillary sat up. She grabbed some tissues from the box she had parked next to the couch and  
started to blow her nose. Her mother picked up the tissue wads that were crumpled on the floor, then went to bring her her oatmeal and a spoon.

“Anything you want to drink?”

“Some orange juice. And some water.”

“Right.” Jo took Hillary’s water bottle to the kitchen. “Bucky, can you get her a glass of orange juice?”

“Sure,” he said. He opened the fridge to get the carton out, and he got two glasses out of the cupboard, one for Hillary and one for himself. 

Hillary noticed that Bucky was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans: his metal arm was fairly well exposed. She felt her stomach twinge when she remembered the stranger with a red  
hoodie she had seen in the backyard yesterday. She thought maybe she should tell her mother, just in case, but her mother’s chatter drove the thought out of her mind.

“We’ve got plenty of cold meds in the cupboard, honey,” said Jo. “But I was going to go to the store here in a few minutes. Did you want me to bring you anything in particular?”

“Maybe some more DayQuil and another thing of ibuprofin,” said Hillary weakly. Her throat felt very raspy. 

“Okay then,” said Jo. She turned around and looked at Bucky.

“Bucky, is there anything you’d like me to bring you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” said Bucky, finishing off his glass of orange juice. “Maybe some more orange juice. I might drink the whole carton if I’m not careful.”

“You’d better be careful,” said Hillary. “I’m gonna want some more of that.”

Jo opened the screen door and Mudder let himself out into the yard.

She was checking her phone as she ate her oatmeal. 

Coulson: Hey, Hillary, how are you feeling this morning?

Hillary: Absolutely cruddy.

Coulson: Well, you take it easy today. That’s an order. ;)

Hillary: Sure. Tell Mitch to behave himself.

Coulson: I’ll do that.

Jo was gone for the store within ten minutes. Hillary got up and dug through the medicine cupboard. Bucky let Mudder in and closed the blinds over the screen door.

“Well, Hillary, what do you want to do today?”

“Dunno. Just relax. Watch some movies. Maybe play some video games later, if I’m up to it. I guess if you’re here we might as well have fun. I’d probably sleep all day otherwise.”

“Do you need me to leave?”

“No, you’re just fine. I guess it’s just nicer to have someone else around sometimes.”

“Well, you can sleep on the couch all day if you want.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Her phone buzzed.

Coulson: Mitch says mind your own business.

Hillary snickered.

“Got a text from someone?”

“My boss. Coulson’s pretty cool. Nice enough to text me back for no reason.”

“You don’t say.” Bucky leaned against the near side of the bar with his arms folded together.

“Yeah, I guess you could say it’s a lot nicer working for him than for Hydra.” 

“Whatever.”

Then Hillary remembered something.

“Hey, Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“When you were the Winter Soldier...didn’t you get sent out once to kill Coulson? Right before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell?”

“I might have,” said Bucky. He looked down at the floor, scuffing a mark on the fake wood with his shoe. “May have gotten brainwashed and iced a few times after that. I’ve killed  
a lot of people.”

“Yeah, you did…” Hillary felt bad for asking him this, but she was curious. “But, anyway, on that particular mission, you would have met Emily Bridger, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe. Who was she?”

“She was one of our elite agents,” said Hillary. “Which was kind of exceptional, for an agent who was as new as I was. We went to S.H.I.E.L.D. school together. She hung out with  
Steve Rogers a lot. But she had superpowers, too--well, sort of.”

“What kind of powers?” Bucky was looking at her now.

“Well--you haven’t seen Star Wars yet, have you?”

“No. What’s it about?”

“It’s about...a far-away galaxy with spaceships and space monsters and stuff...and mystical knights called the Jedi who had laser swords. Emily Bridger was a Jedi.”

Bucky huffed. “Really?”

“Yeah. She...had an ordeal and got chased out of her own world and ended up here. And S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited her. How about that, huh?”

“But what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well...I heard Coulson saying that she fought you. Well, she fought the Winter Soldier, rather. With her laser sword.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you remember that?”

Bucky screwed his face in concentration. “You know what...I actually do. Because they gave me some special training for that. She had the weird laser sword thingummy, so they  
gave me -- “

“An electric rope,” said Hillary. “Coulson was talking about it the other day. He says he didn’t actually see it because ...he’d been wounded, but he heard the noise.”

Bucky was staring at the living room carpet. He breathed in slowly. 

“Hey, I know something we could do,” Hillary said, perking up.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“We can watch Star Wars. It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of the movies, and you haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“Well, how soon are you going back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I think I’m going to be here another day or two,” said Hillary. “So we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Well, how many movies are there?”

“There’s six total, but we can skip the Prequels. They’re stupid.” She had to stop and blow her nose. 

“No, let’s watch all of them,” said Bucky. “You can just sleep if you don’t wanna watch.”

“Fine. A New Hope is on the shelf back there with the other Star Wars movies.” She tossed her head back to the bookcase where the DVDs were.

“A New Hope,” Bucky said to himself.

“Yeah. So, there’s the original trilogy, that came out in the eighties, and it’s really awesome. But then in the 2000s, they came out with the prequel trilogy that kind of explained  
the backstory, but it’s just totally dumb. There’s too much CGI, and the acting is terrible, and the story is lame.”

“But if it explains the backstory, then, shouldn’t we watch them in order?”

“No, because you don’t have an excuse,” said Hillary. “Steve Rogers watched them in order because Emily Bridger said she was from the prequels...well, from when the prequels  
take place.”

“Well, then why don’t we watch the prequels first, so I can see where this Emily Bridger came from?” Bucky perked his eyebrows at her. Hillary twitched hers back. 

“Do you honestly not mind the fact that you’re doing it the same way as Steve did?”

“Steve Rogers has nothing to do with this.” 

Bucky eyed the DVD case in his hands. “This here says Episode IV. But I think we should start with Episode I.”

“Could we at least skip The Phantom Menace?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s annoying. Besides, it takes place ten years before two and three and has little or nothing to do with the rest of the plot.” 

“I say we should still watch it.” Bucky put the case for A New Hope back on the shelf and pulled out The Phantom Menace. “Besides, I thought you said you would sleep through it.”

“It’s hard to sleep when there’s something annoying on television.”

“Then go to your room and sleep.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Bucky sat down on the floor next to the couch. “I thought you hated me, Hillary.”

“Shove off,” she said. She reached out to push him on the shoulder, but he leaned away.

“Don’t touch me, I’ll get your germs on me.”

“But my germs ain’t gonna make you sick.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be around other people, and they’ll get sick. So there.” He crossed the floor to the DVD player.

“You’re such a dweeb.”

 

Up in Toronto, Mitch was working in the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, reading a report sent in from a different field office. 

Coulson came by his cubicle, his empty coffee mug swinging from one hand. “How is it going?” he asked.

“Almost done with this one,” said Mitch.

“Good to hear it,” said Coulson. “I’m glad it didn’t put you to sleep.”

“Ha ha, you said it.”

“And just for the record, Mitch,” said Coulson, leaning against the cubicle, “I’d like your own reports to be a little more concise than that. Okay?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. I just sent you an email with a copy of Hillary’s report on the incident in Arizona.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’d like you to look that over when you get the chance,” said Coulson. “I need you to go over it and see if she left out anything from her point of view. I’ve got to go. The  
Avengers just got back from raiding a Hydra base in Russia. I’ve got a lot of damage control to do for that.”

“I see. Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks, Mitch.” Coulson walked away, humming to himself. 

Within half an hour, Mitch had finished reviewing his previous report and started looking at Hillary’s. He pulled up another copy pf the report with the portion he’d worked on.

Everything seemed to be in order after the first read-through. But then he started looking over the parts where Hillary mentioned the friend who had helped her.

Jason Retniw, 28, of Mesa, Arizona, is a good friend of the Tanner family. Jason Retniw agreed to assist myself in helping Agent Sorensen fight the FRP hostiles. Retniw was of considerable assistance and helped me to counter the violent intentions of the FRP. Retniw fought with each of the assailants in turn, some of them multiple times before they were subdued. The injuries suffered by the suspects from their fight with Retniw are substantial. Mr. James Sealon suffered several broken ribs. When Mr. Cheng grabbed Agent Sorensen to threaten Agent Tanner, Retniw crept up on Cheng from behind and knocked him out. Mr. Cheng might have otherwise shot Agent Sorensen in the head, so Retniw effectively saved his life. Cheng is currently recovering from a concussion. 

There were details added by the Tempe police, doctors, and the store managers about the damage caused to the store and the injuries of the attackers. True, a lot of it had been caused by flying bullets, but the only people injured were the FRP lobbyists--and most of their wounds had come from Mr. Retniw. 

He did all of this for me? Mitch asked himself. No, he did it for Hillary.

He thought back to that night. The stranger had be reluctant to speak with him. Mitch had forgotten that when he had typed the report. Maybe he should go back and add that.  
And maybe add a few more details about Mr. Retniw. 

But who is this guy? Mitch wondered. He did an internet search. Google suggested different spellings for the last name. There was no one on Facebook with that name, but then again men didn’t use Facebook as much, did they? He didn’t seem like the type. 

He checked the S.H.I.E.L.D. persons database. He wanted to see if S.H.I.E.L.D. knew anything about him.

Surprisingly, he did find a result. The name “Jason Retniw” came up under a list of recently created cover names. The files attached were a fake driver’s license, social security  
card, and birth certificate. The picture on the driver’s licence didn’t look anything like Mr. Retniw--but it had been dark when they had met. And there wasn’t a real name  
attached to the cover name at all. Hillary had created it back in November. 

But Mitch remembered the text from Hillary he had seen in the mirror. 

Retniw is winter spelled backwards.

He couldn’t help but thinking of their trip to Minnesota and what he had learned there.

There was an idea nagging at his brain. But what were the odds? 

 

Hillary didn’t sleep very well through The Phantom Menace. Her mother came home and worked on the computer for a few minutes while they watched. When Attack of the Clones came on, Hillary was hungry and it was time for lunch. Jo made soup for Hillary and sandwiches for herself and Bucky. 

Bucky didn’t talk much while they were watching: he would make aside comments or ask questions sometimes, but he was paying attention. Mudder also came and curled up to him sometimes. Sometimes when Hillary wasn’t trying too hard to be asleep she would answer him.

As “Attack of the Clones” was ending and cut to the wedding scene, Bucky made a noise of exclamation.

“Ooooh!” Mudder jumped up out of Bucky’s lap, startled. 

“Oh what?” asked Hillary.

“That’s the guy she was talking about,” said Bucky. “Emily Bridger said that she knew a guy where she came from that had a metal arm--just like me.”

The camera lingered on Anakin Skywalker’s new cyborg arm. 

“Yeah,” Hillary nodded. “Okay. When did she say that to you?”

“We...met up, once, in a city.”

“Was that before you --*cough, cough* tried to kill her or after?”

“I...I guess it was after.” 

The movie cut to the end credits. Mudder moved to the couch to sleep beside Hillary. While Bucky switched out the DVD for Revenge of the Sith, Hillary texted Coulson.

Hillary: Question: did Emily Bridger ever say she knew Anakin Skywalker?

Coulson was only a few minutes in replying.

Coulson: Yes, she did. She knew him pretty well, in fact. Any reason you wanted to ask?

Hillary: I’m having a Star Wars marathon.

Coulson: A great cold cure if I ever found one! 

Hillary: :) 

Bucky made even less commentary during Revenge of the Sith. 

“Are you okay, Bucky?” she asked him. “I know the violence, it’s...a little intense.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Bucky. But he was sitting up in a rather rigid manner. He looked a little like he was going to be sick after Anakin got burned on Mustafar. And he was  
downright terrified of Darth Vader’s suit.

“It’s okay,” Hillary told him. “It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. He went to the kitchen for a drink of water.

Revenge of the Sith ended. 

“So that’s it, then?” asked Bucky. 

“That’s it for the prequel trilogy,” said Hillary, wiping her nose again. “Do you want to watch the originals now or have you had enough for today?”

“Erm, I think I’ve had enough,” he said.

He went to Cody’s bedroom and did not come out again. Hillary lay on the couch and eventually fell asleep.

When she awoke later in the afternoon she was feeling considerably more chipper. She knocked on the door to Cody’s bedroom. Bucky was awake, but just lying on the bed staring at the wall.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said in a shaky tone.

“Look, I’m sorry if maybe those movies were a little too much for you. We don’t have to watch the rest of them.”

“No, no, I want to see what happens,” he said. “It’s fine. I can handle it. I just…” He shrugged and looked off to one side.

Hillary coughed. “So, anything else you’d like to do today?”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“A little. We don’t have to watch a movie. Maybe we could play a game or something.”

“Okay. What do you want to play?”

“Well, I haven’t touched my brother’s video game console for a while. I was thinking I’d like to warm it up a little, before he comes home in April. We can play MarioKart. Wanna  
play MarioKart? It’s a racing game.”

“Sure. Sounds fine.”

When Trey Tanner came home from work that night it was to see his daughter and her friend seated on the floor playing MarioKart. Hillary and Bucky took a break for dinner and  
then played two rounds of Speed, but Hillary wasn’t feeling “brainy enough” for too many card games and they went back to MarioKart. 

Mudder tried rubbing against them as they played but he only made them crash their virtual cars spectacularly. Mudder gave an impatient “mrrrow” and went to sleep on the couch. 

Hillary would occasionally glimpse from the side Bucky scowling in concentration while he fingered the controls. She won most of the races. Bucky had a little difficulty getting used to keeping his car on the track and not falling off and dying every so often. The first time he won he accused her of letting him. She flatly denied it.

But the third time he won, which was about nine-thirty at night, he gave a loud shout of triumph because it was obvious that he had beaten her.

“In. the. Dust!” he said to her. “You got fifth place!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” said Hillary, shrugging and covering her mouth to cough, “my car kept stalling.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to be the better racer,” he said. 

As they talked, Mudder licked himself a little, then went to the utility room. 

They changed their racing avatars and ran another race. They were neck and neck as their cars hurtled up to the virtual finish line. Hillary could hear him breathing very loudly. 

“Come on...come on!” he shouted.

She worried that his metal hand might break the controls.

He gave one of the buttons a final push downward. His car gave a burst of speed and then zipped past Hillary’s all the way to the finish line.

“Yes! Yes!” He pumped his fists in the air.

Hillary sneezed. “That was a close one!”

“I’m getting good at this game--am I getting good at this game?”

“You’re a champion racer now--high five.”

They exchanged high-fives and started setting up for another race. And then Mudder started meowing loudly behind them.

Hillary and Bucky turned around. Mudder was looking at the screen door and growling at the blinds. 

“What’s Mudder upset about?” 

“I don’t know,” said Hillary. She blew her nose. Then she got up slowly. Her bones ached from sitting in one position for too long. She stretched as Mudder gave a low growl. He crouched on the floor beside the crack in the screen door and flattened his ears.

“What’s the matter, Mudder?” she said, walking up to the screen door. She turned on the kitchen light and pulled the blinds aside. Then her heart nearly stopped. She gasped.

“What?” Bucky said. He sounded afraid.

“I thought I saw someone,” she said.

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” said Hillary. “I just got a glimpse of them. They were wearing a red hoodie…”

“A red hoodie,” Bucky scratched his chin. Then he stood up. He walked over to the screen door and stood next to Hillary.

“Do you have any hobo friends that you’ve told about this place?” said Hillary. “Said the Tanners gave out free handouts?”

“Like heck I do,” said Bucky.

“Well, cuz, you see, when you first dropped by here last Thanksgiving, Mudder was acting the same way.”

Bucky stared into the blackness of the backyard. He could make out the shape of the abandoned playground equipment just behind the trampoline. But he couldn’t see anyone.  
He had a flashback to when he had been Hydra’s Asset and they had given him nighttime-vision goggles for a few assignments: one of those would have been handy right then.

“Do you wanna play another round?” he said to Hillary.

“Sure,” she said, nodding. She pulled back the blinds but seemed reluctant to do so.

When they finished it was a quarter after ten. Bucky put down the controls and fell backwards onto the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m tired,” he said with a massive yawn. He ran his metal fingers through his hair wearily.

Hillary sighed and climbed out of her blankets. She picked up the game controllers and put them back in their basket under the TV and turned off the Wii. Bucky put his arm down and lay flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you going to lie there like that all night?”

“I’d like to.”

“Well, I won’t make you go to bed, then, as long as you stay there on the floor. And you can have some blankets if you like.” 

“I’ve slept on bare blacktop before, this carpet is actually really--yawn--nice.” 

He rolled over. Taking one of the blankets that Hillary had left on the floor, he stretched himself up and was rather comfortable. Hillary crawled under her comforter on the  
couch. She spent a few minutes staring at the fish tank to put herself to sleep. 

But before she closed her eyes to rest, she gave another furtive look at the blinds over the screen door. 

 

Bucky went to the garage the next morning for a few hours, so Hillary slept in. Trey brought Bucky back to the house at lunch, by which time Hillary was awake and actually starting to feel a little better. She was coughing much less and blowing her nose more infrequently.

As soon as they had both eaten lunch, Bucky grabbed the DVDs of the original Star Wars trilogy and put on Episode IV. Hillary liked to point out the changes made to the special editions as they went along but Bucky was soon able to tell the difference. But really it was all the same to him. 

“Poor Steve Rogers, someone had a copy of the original theatrical versions,” Hillary said, laughing, “but then someone else in the group said he should watch the special editions  
anyway, and then--” She caught Bucky glaring at her. “So, anyway.”

At the end of A New Hope, Bucky said, “So all of this happened after Emily Bridger left that galaxy?”

“I guess so,” said Hillary. “Emily was very clear--remember Order 66?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s when she left.”

“And nobody else survived that crap?” Bucky got out to change the DVDs. 

“Well...there’s always been stories about Jedi survivors trying to...escape being hunted down by the Empire. But, yeah, pretty much just Obi-wan and Yoda are left and now Luke’s  
one of them, too.”

“But if Obi-wan’s dead, it’s just Luke and Yoda.”

“Right, right, sorry about that, my cold brain doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Wow. Poor Emily,” said Bucky. “And she knew some of these guys?” 

“Well, she never talked much about it to me,” said Hillary, coughing. “But Coulson knows a lot. Coulson was her trainer.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Tell you what, when I go back to work next week, I’ll ask him for you.”

“You do that,” said Bucky, slumping back into his chair.

The Empire Strikes Back started out all right. Bucky was slightly confused when Leia kissed Luke, and even more so when Hillary laughed. 

“I thought they were brother and sister.”

“This is why I wanted to skip the prequels,” said Hillary, blowing her nose. “It’s more fun to introduce someone to Star Wars when they don’t know.” 

“But I thought incest wasn’t funny,” he said. 

“Yeah, well, it’s funny because she’s doing that to get to Han--”

“Sh!” They had gotten to the part where the Empire found the Hoth base, and Bucky wanted to hear the Imperials talking.

When they reached the part at the end of the movie where Darth Vader said to Luke...well, everyone knows that part. Hillary looked at Bucky. She wondered if he would still react,  
since he already knew. But Bucky leaned forward in his seat, holding his hands out in front of him. He had his brow furrowed, like he was paying attention or looking for something. And then Hillary had to cough. 

And then Leia kissed Luke again aboard the Millenium Falcon.

“She did it again! Who wrote this script anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Hillary. Word on the street is George Lucas wrote the whole thing on the fly.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. If that Emily girl came from the galaxy where it takes place, and she knew about some of these events, then how did anyone ever find this story?”

“Even she didn’t know the answer. I’m just as confused as you are.” 

“Well,” Bucky made a face, “Emily Bridger said it wasn’t anyplace I could get to by hitchhiking. Man don’t I wish. How the heck did she get here anyway?”

“That is also a good question.”

They put on Return of the Jedi.

“So how does Luke even find out about his sister?”

“Watch and see.” 

He didn’t make much commentary through the rest of the film.

Then right before when the Rebels were captured by Ewoks, Bucky burst out laughing at something. 

“What?”

“It’s Han. He doesn’t know. He thinks they’re dating.”

“Oh. Right. You know what, I’ve never thought of it that way. I guess it is funny.” 

I should introduce people to Star Wars more often, Hillary thought to herself.

Then they came to the scene where Luke and Vader had their conversation. Hillary wanted to ask Bucky something but then he shushed her. He was paying very close attention.

When the scene was over, Hillary asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Luke is crazy,” said Bucky, relaxing back in his chair. “He can’t save Vader. He’s too far gone.” 

“Well, just you watch.”

“Wait, he does?”

“I said just watch.” 

They reached the part in the lightsaber duel where Luke “lowered his defenses”. 

“He can’t be serious...it’s almost as if…”

He looked at Hillary. Then Hillary realized something. “Is this starting to sound familiar to you?”

“You said Captain America has seen this movie?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think…” Bucky broke off.

Hillary shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not Steve Rogers.”

Bucky’s jaw kind of dropped in disbelief when Vader turned on the Emperor. He was kind of mad that the scene cut back to the space battle. Then he was all rapt attention again  
for Darth Vader’s death scene. Hillary could hear Bucky breathing. 

Return of the Jedi ended. 

“Gimme a break,” said Bucky. “You’re telling me this is why Captain America saved me?”

“Don’t look at me,” said Hillary. “I was on assignment in South America when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking.” 

“But you knew him, right?”

“Well, I know he’s crazy,” said Hillary, “but I wouldn’t call him Luke-Skywalker ‘I’m-gonna-save-my-dad-even-though-he’s-on-the-dark-side’ crazy.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know him well enough.”

“Maybe you do.” 

“Did.”

Hillary threw her pillow across the room at him. Bucky laughed. He crossed the living room floor to the couch and raised it to strike her. Hillary grabbed one of the couch pillows  
and hit him back.

“Somebody needs to go back to work!” he said to her.

“Well so do you!” she retorted. 

“Don’t break anything you two,” her mother called from over by the computer.

Late in the afternoon, Jo went out to the grocery store. At Hillary’s urging, Bucky went with her. Hillary was channel surfing on the TV when her phone buzzed with a text.

Hey, Hillary, it’s Marcie Johnson, your old coworker from S.H.I.E.L.D. in Tempe. You told me to keep an eye on your home while you were gone. I have been doing so faithfully. But I want you to know that I drove by just earlier this afternoon and I saw someone lurking in the alley behind your house. He was wearing a red hoodie. I ID’d his face with one of my work apps and it matched the face of a known ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. guy who is currently working for Hydra. I am going to tell Parsons but let me know what you think we should do. 

Hillary read the text at least four times to make sure she had read it right. She made several false starts on a reply before putting something together.

Marcie, thank you for texting me. I have been home this week with a cold. I have seen this guy in my backyard twice. Go ahead and tell Parsons. I will tell Coulson.

But just when she hit send, her mother and Bucky returned to the house, their arms full of groceries, and Hillary forgot that she was about to text Coulson. 

That night they had leftovers for dinner. Bucky thought Hillary looked distracted about something and asked her what was wrong. She said it was nothing. 

They played a video game on the Wii. Then Hillary went to go sleep in her own bed, and Bucky went to Cody’s room.


	3. The Enemy in the Backyard

The next day was Saturday. Bucky went to the garage with Trey in the morning. Hillary texted Coulson to tell him she was feeling better and that a known Hydra suspect was lurking around her neighborhood. He did not respond right away, which made Hillary more agitated. She found herself wandering to the screen door to peer through the blinds.  
Jo Tanner went to babysitt for Mike and Susan in the afternoon. Trey had to go back to the garage but left Bucky to keep Hillary company. They picked up their video game where   
they had left off the previous night.

They had been at it for about an hour when Mudder started growling. 

Hillary and Bucky both jumped and looked at Mudder. He was sitting in front of the screen door, snapping at the blinds.

“What is it?” asked Bucky.

“Oh no,” said Hillary. They both dropped the game controls, but Hillary was the first one to the door. She practically ripped the curtain aside. There was the man in the red hoodie.

She pushed the screen door open. Mudder gave a horrendous yell and sprang out the as soon as there was a crack wide enough. He landed on the man’s face, and the man gave a terrified scream. He yanked the cat off from him and stumbled off the back porch into the yard, towards the trampoline.

Bucky was on top of him. He kicked the man hard on the bottom and then kicked him onto his side. 

Hillary ran out into the yard after him. 

Bucky was holding the man by the shirt collar. The man tried to yank himself free, but then stopped when he saw that he was being held by the metal arm.

“Hillary, who is this guy?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Hillary said. She looked down at him. “All right, who are you and what are you doing here? Talk!”

The man looked up at her. He had a brown goatee and greasy brown hair. “You’re off-duty, Agent,” said the man, giving a nervous laugh. “You can’t make me talk.”

“Did Hydra send you?” asked Hillary.

“You’d better believe it,” he said, smiling.

“Why?”

“You ask me why Hydra sent me, and yet you’ve got your metal-armed friend holding me by the collar. I should think it was obvious.” 

Bucky looked at Hillary. Words couldn’t describe the dread she saw on his face.

“Is that it?”

But the man dug around his mouth with his tongue, and then she heard something snap. “You’ve been harboring the Asset long enough,” he said, smacking his lips a little. 

Hillary realized too late what was happening. Bucky dropped him and stood back. 

Hillary dropped onto her knees next to the man. 

“Cut off one head, two more will take its place,” said the man. “You know that, don’t you?” He smiled cruelly as his eyes slid out of focus, but he appeared to be trying to look at   
Bucky. “And you will pay the price,” he added, lolling over his head towards Hillary. Hillary backed away and stood up next to Bucky. 

“Heil Hydra!” The cyanide fizzled in his mouth for a second longer, and then the man shuddered and collapsed on the ground. 

Hillary looked at the dead man’s body for a moment.

Then she looked at Bucky. He had become very pale and still, almost more deathlike than the corpse.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I-I’m fine,” said Bucky, sounding like he was trying to find his mouth. “Wh-wh-what are we going to do?” 

Hillary looked down at the corpse. Then she shook her head. “You need to get out of here.”

“Get out of here?” Now Bucky had some color in his cheeks again. 

“I’m going to call S.H.I.E.L.D., and, probably, the police,” said Hillary. “But they can’t see that you’ve been here.” She looked at him. “You need to go find someplace to lie low.   
Take all of your stuff with you. I’ll straighten up Cody’s room and make the bed and stuff.”

“But where will I go?”

“Are you gonna be okay just hiding in the streets for a while?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He didn’t sound entirely thrilled with the prospect.

“Take your cell phone with you,” said Hillary. “I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back.”

“Okay, sure.” 

He and Hillary returned to the house. Hillary closed the screen door and pulled the blinds, but her hands were shaking so badly it was a wonder the cord for the blinds didn’t   
break. Bucky ran to Cody’s bedroom to pick up his things--just a change of clothes, his cell phone, and wallet. He had an Arizona Cardinals duffel bag that Trey had given him.   
Hillary put away the game consoles.

“Do you want anything to eat for the road?” said Hillary when he reentered the kitchen.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” said Bucky. “I won’t be here for dinner anyway.”

Hillary recalled that there was sliced meat and cheese in the fridge, so she made him a sandwich.

She looked up and saw him watching her from the dining table. He had his jacket, shoes, glove, and baseball hat on him, and his bag was on the floor.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he said to her.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” said Hillary very loudly.

“Sure you are,” said Bucky. 

She put the top on his sandwich. “Did you want to eat it now or later?”

“I guess later,” said Bucky. So she put it in a plastic bag and also got out a water bottle and a package of crackers. He put the food in his duffel bag.

“I guess that’s it,” said Bucky. “And you’ll call me as soon as it’s safe to come back?”

“As soon as I know what’s going on,” said Hillary. “S.H.I.E.L.D. may want to do an in-depth investigation. As bad as this sounds, Hydra may be resurging here in Mesa. If that’s the case, I’ll tell you to come back until we figure out a better place to hide you.”

“Hide me?”

“Do you want us to hide you?”

“I can hide myself just fine,” said Bucky. “But if it would help you feel better--”

“Just go, we’ll discuss it later.”

“All righty then,” he said. He turned around, throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder. And then, just as he was barely out of the kitchen, he turned around.

“I almost forgot something.” He gave Hillary a big hug. She wasn’t expecting that. “You be careful, okay?”

“You too,” said Hillary.

“Bye.” He let her go and exited out the back door. 

Hillary found herself staring at the empty hallway down to the utility room. A part of her wanted to cry. But she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Coulson. He   
was in D.C. so hopefully it wasn’t too late in his time zone.

“Hello,” Coulson answered brightly.

“Coulson, oh thank goodness I got you,” said Hillary. 

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes. Hydra might be remobilizing here in Mesa.”

“What?”

“Listen, there was a guy who’s been lurking around my house for the past few days. One of my old Tempe coworkers who has been looking after my family says he’s been linked   
to Hydra. And then today I caught him in my backyard. He popped a cyanide capsule. He said, before he died, that he was looking for the Asset.”

“Bucky?!”

“Yes, and then he said, ‘cut off one head, two more will take its place.’ And his last words were Heil Hydra.” 

Hillary thought she heard something break on the other end of the line. And then Coulson pulled the receiver away from his mouth to swear. 

“Well, why does he think the Asset is there?”

“He didn’t say. What are we gonna do?”

“You call Agent Parsons. Tell him I will be taking the next flight out to Phoenix.”

“Good. And where’s Mitch?”

“He’s in Utah this weekend. But I’m calling him up to come in on Monday. I will need both of you to help me.” 

“You’ve got it,” said Hillary. 

She hung up and called Agent Parsons, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office in Tempe. Parsons had already heard from Agent Johnson, but hearing about the guy in Hillary’s   
backyard sent him into his panic mode.

“It hasn’t even been a year since we cleaned them out of here,” he said, and Hillary could perfectly envision him rubbing his eyes like he did when he was frustrated. “Right, well,   
we’re going to start this right away. Can you come in tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll come.”

“Good, meet me at the office at seven. I’m calling an emergency staff meeting. I’ll call the police and tell them to go over to your house in the meantime.”

“Okay, perfect,” said Hillary. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

They hung up. Hillary called her father at the garage to explain what had happened and that Bucky had gone into hiding. He came home right away. Hillary was getting ready to   
take a shower when the police arrived with an ambulance to take the body. She double-checked with the officer to ensure that S.H.I.E.L.D. would be in charge of the investigation and that there would be no media coverage of the incident whatsoever.

It was a relief to finally have the dead body removed from the yard. 

Hillary showered, made and ate her own sandwich, and got ready to leave. Her mother came home just as she was leaving. 

 

Hillary would have enjoyed seeing her old Tempe cohorts more had the situation not been so stressful. When she arrived at the office, Parsons, Johnson, and Swill were already waiting for her. They had set up for their meeting in the back conference room--where, it felt like a lifetime ago, Coulson had first met with her and asked her to be his assistant. Hillary spent the time waiting for the others catching up with Marcie and telling Parsons about her adventures with Coulson--well, if they could be called that. Agent Kearns arrived looking irritated: he had been planning to go up to his family’s cabin that weekend and was not happy about cancelling his plans, but he muttered under his breath that he would make Hydra pay for it dearly. Next to come was Agent Clay, who had replaced Hillary on the Tempe S.H.I.E.L.D. team when Hillary had gone off with Coulson. Last to come was Agent Swill, who was halfway through wolfing down a Subway sandwich with lots of lettuce, and Hillary could almost smell the onions--her homemade sandwich had not been very filling.

With everyone arrived, they all sat down at the table. Parsons was at the head and Hillary was on his right hand. Hillary told everyone the story about the man in the red jacket. She repeated his last words to them verbatim, and told them that a friend who had been over visiting had helped pin him down. Marcie supplied the details about when she had seen him that week.

Marcie also pulled up the projector and presented the info on the deceased Hydra agent. “His name was Marvin Stall, 32. He worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. up until last April, when, of course, Hydra came out. He was last seen in Columbus, Ohio, in December, when a S.H.I.E.L.D. squad took out a Hydra base there. He escaped the raid and has been on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wanted list ever since.”

“Well, looks like he took himself off it,” said Swill around his last mouthful of sandwich. 

“Marcie, I want you and Agent Kearns to look up where this guy was staying and get a search warrant ready by Monday,” said Parsons. 

“Yes, sir,” said Marcie. She sat back down. 

Parsons looked down the table at the other agents. “Now, I think the big question is, why does Hydra think the Asset is hiding in Mesa? Specifically in Hillary’s neighborhood?”

“Temperate climate, big city, who knows,” said Clay. “If I were the Winter Soldier, I’d say this was a good place to hide.” 

“But specifically in that neighborhood, though,” said Kearns. “It’s mighty fishy, isn’t it?” He stroked his beard.

“I find it hard to believe he wasn’t after you, Tanner,” said Swill. “He used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., so he’d know where you were. But he wouldn’t know what S.H.I.E.L.D. has found   
out since last April about the Winter Soldier.” 

“Has this guy been by your dad’s garage recently?” asked Parsons.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Hillary. 

“Well, tell your dad if he doesn’t mind, we’d like to do a search of the garage, see if we can dig up something.”

Hillary felt the pit of her stomach dropping out. “Okay, then,” said Hillary. “I’ll tell him.”

“Do you guys have surveillance cameras?”

“No, but Dad keeps records of his customers,” she said, swallowing. “Names, dates, addresses, phone numbers, credit cards--you name it.” 

“That’ll be great,” said Parsons, nodding. He looked down the table. “Swill, Clay, I want you two on that. Go to Tanner Automotive and see if you can find anything suspicious   
from the last week or so. Maybe even earlier.”

“How much of a lead would Hydra have on us, though?” asked Marcie. 

“That’s what I’m wondering,” said Parsons, twiddling his thumbs on the table. “I find it hard to believe that they would be able to track the Winter Soldier--they made him   
untrackable, for crying out loud. But if they were trying to get to you, Hillary, for information, then that would make more sense.”

“If you say so,” said Hillary. “But he told me specifically he was looking for the Asset.” 

“Hm,” said Kearns, rubbing his beard even harder. “It makes me wonder how close he thought he was, if he was willing to pop a cyanide.” 

“And not to mention,” said Marcie, “you’re friends with Captain Rogers, Hillary. If he was trying to get to him through you--”

“That would make sense, but then again he was going about it the wrong way,” said Hillary. “Or he would have been, rather. Any fool with a Facebook account can log on to the   
‘Save Bucky’ page and see what kind of progress he’s had with his search. It hasn’t been good.”

“If Cap’s back out with the Avengers, though, you’d think they’d have guessed he hasn’t found anything,” said Swill. 

“Well, I think, we should start by figuring out who he’s working for and what they’re after, and then we’ll find that out,” said Parsons. “What I’m more worried about is what this   
means for Hydra in our area. When we took out their base last August I could have sworn we had either killed or arrested every single one of them. If they’re moving back in, we   
need to get them back out.”

“Cut off one head, two more will take its place,” Hillary quoted. “That’s what he said. You don’t think that’s what he was hinting at, do you?”

“We might want to wait and find out what kind of resources they have and what sort of threat they pose,” said Swill. “But we might not be able to do this on our own.”

“If you’re suggesting that we call in the Avengers,” said Kearns, “forget about it. They’re in Mongolia this weekend, and they won’t be back until who knows when.”

“But it usually doesn’t take them long for them to get Hydra taken care of,” Marcie rebutted. “I think Captain America and his team may want to see to this personally, especially if   
the Winter Soldier is involved.”

“Well, that’s their call to make,” said Parsons. “I still say we should wait and see.” He stood up. “Hillary, as soon as Coulson arrives tomorrow, I want you to come in and help me   
brief him on the case.”

“Whatever you say,” said Hillary.


	4. Reunions

Coulson sent Hillary a text message very late that night saying that he had gotten a flight to Phoenix that would land in the early afternoon. Agent Parsons would pick him up at the airport. So Hillary would have time to go to the first part of her church meetings before Coulson came. 

She set her phone on vibrate when she entered the chapel, and when she felt it go off shortly after noon, she checked it. Coulson had landed. She squeezed down the pew, nodded goodbye to her parents, and stepped out of the chapel.

In the hallway of the church were the people whose congregations met earlier and later than that of Hillary’s family, moving from Sunday School to their next hour of meetings. Hillary had to navigate her way through the crowd, since she had parked her car on the far side of the church. She had nearly reached the back door of the building when she heard someone calling her name.

“Hillary? Hillary!” 

She stopped, startled, and looked every which way. Her mind raced furiously as she tried to place the voice. 

“No, over here!” called a voice over to her right. She looked over and saw someone cutting through the crowd to meet her. And she gasped when she recognized him.

“Mark!”

“There you are!” he said to her, striding up to her confidently.

“Mark Lawson, how are you?” She could hardly believe he was there, her old friend from Washington, D.C. 

“I’m doing so great! How about you?”

“I’m doing fine,” she said. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my friend’s brother’s mission farewell.”

“You came all the way to Arizona for that?”

“Well, actually, I just moved here. I finished up my internship in San Diego and I found a job in Scottsdale working for the same company.”

“Wow, that’s great! Resser Fruits, right?”

“Right,” said Mark. “Are you still with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yeah, I am,” said Hillary. “I have to go to work right now, actually. Got an emergency.”

“I imagine you get quite a few of those.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my line of work.”

“Are they treating you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m doing just fine. Well, I have to go, but we should catch up some other time.”

She began to move towards the door.

“Right, we should do that.”

“Do you still have my number?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, I’ll text you sometime. See ya!”

“Great to see you, Hillary!” Mark shouted, waving after her. 

She went out to her car feeling considerably elated after that encounter. Mark had been one of her friends when she had gone to S.H.I.E.L.D. school. When she had stayed in D.C.   
afterwards they had hung out quite a bit. She hadn’t seen him since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell--gosh, had that been almost a year ago already? In the meantime, Mark had finished school, and from the sound of things he was doing great. 

She would like to see him at least once while he was still in Mesa. She didn’t know how long he would be there. Maybe he would go before the summer started.  
Hillary started her car and wondered how it was possible that Mark had kept her phone number after all these months. 

 

When she got to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Tempe, Coulson was already there waiting for her in Parsons’ office. He shook hands with her warmly.

“So are you over your cold now?”

“Pretty much,” said Hillary. “I guess the Star Wars marathon did the trick.”

“Well, next time I get a cold maybe I’ll have to do something like that,” said Coulson. “So, have things been okay over at your house?” 

“Yeah, no one else from Hydra has shown up since yesterday,” said Hillary. 

“We have police keeping surveillance of the neighborhood,” said Parsons. They haven’t reported anything.” 

“Good, good,” said Coulson. “So let’s go over again what happened. Parsons said you had a friend over at the time who helped you out?”

“Yeah.”

“Who was he?” 

“A friend of the family.”

Coulson looked Hillary square in the eye. “Really? Was it Jason Retniw, who was with you at Trents’ the other week?”

“Oddly enough it was.”

“Really. Well, where is he now? Could he help us out?”

“No, he can’t, as a matter of fact,” said Hillary. “He left yesterday right after Stall attacked. He was kind of shook up, to be honest.”

“Well, when he’s not feeling quite so traumatized could he come over and give us some more information?”

“I don’t think he’d do that for you. He doesn’t like talking to people.”

“Oh. Okay,” said Coulson. He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but then thankfully he changed the subject. “So what were you two doing yesterday afternoon?”

“Playing video games in the living room. He’s close to my age, so he’s been over chilling out with me while I’ve been recovering--I don’t think I was that contagious. But anyway,   
the burglar was over on Friday night, and my cat Mudder sniffed him through the screen door. It happened again on Saturday afternoon.” She described the attack, being careful to refer to Bucky as “Jason” when she had to. 

When she repeated Stall’s last words, Coulson cringed. “Parsons, do you have the search warrants ready for this guy?”

“Johnson and Kearns are still working on it, sir. We should have the forms put together by tomorrow morning.” 

Coulson rubbed his forehead. “That might not be soon enough. ‘Cut off one head, two more will take its place.’ The more I think about it the more I think he was hinting that   
Hydra is rebuilding in the area.”

“Well, what’s it gonna be, Boss?”

“The Avengers aren’t back from their last mission yet,” said Coulson, pacing up and down the office. “I don’t know when they’ll be back. But I think Captain Rogers will personally   
want to handle this one.” 

“Well, I think we should find out what Hydra’s up to, first,” said Parsons. He picked up his phone and started dialing. “I’m going to call the district judge again, see if he’ll come over and sign that search warrant early.”

While Parsons waited on the phone, Hillary spoke to Coulson.

“So when is Mitch coming?”

“He should be here first thing tomorrow.” 

Hillary nodded. “So it’s quite different, watching Star Wars when you’ve actually known...well.”

Coulson nodded. “I’ve been meaning to re-watch the prequels recently. I just haven’t had the time.”

“Well, maybe sometime when you’re on a long overseas flight. I have the DVDs, so I could loan them to ya.”

“Sure.”

Hillary swallowed. “Yeah, I hung out with Emily when we watched the original trilogy with Steve. My friend Mark--well, he was friends with Emily and Steve and all them, too--he twisted my arm into watching Attack of the Clones.”

“You’re such a hater, Hillary,” Coulson said, giving her an elbow in the ribs.

“Ha ha. Well, it’s not our fault that the exile from that particular galaxy was a Jedi rather than a Rebel Pilot.”

“Right.” 

“But what was it like?” Hillary said, “working with her, I mean?”

“Well, it was...interesting, to say the least. I haven’t trained too many other S.H.I.E.L.D. rookies before, and Emily was the only one I ever was assigned to work one-on-one with. But as a person, she was really great to work with. Really open-minded, kind, sensitive, and smart. Her abilities--it didn’t matter that they weren’t anywhere near what they were in her home galaxy. She could tell things about people just by looking at them. She knew when someone was hurt or sad or in need of a little extra kindness--she just went out of her way. She could tell what was going on when there was trouble, or when someone was lying, just amazing. She was sort of average, physically, but she could do stunts I’ve only seen in the movies. She used to tell the most amazing stories about her home galaxy. You know she knew Skywalker and Kenobi, right? And her lightsaber--wow, I mean, I didn’t think lightsabers were that interesting, but Emily said there was a real art to it. She even showed me how to use it, once or twice.”

“Well, that’s too bad she took it with her.”

“Actually, she didn’t,” said Coulson.

“What?”

“She--”

Parsons then interrupted them. They spent the rest of the afternoon working on getting a search warrant for the Hydra burglar and compiling information on other potential suspects. They made phone calls to other S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities around the country, gathering information from people who had known Stall. 

Hillary was dismissed to leave at six o’clock. She was packing her briefcase to leave when she remembered her unfinished conversation with Coulson. 

“So you were saying,” she said, walking up to him, “that Emily didn’t take her lightsaber with her?”

“No, she didn’t,” said Coulson.

“Well, where is it, then?” she asked. 

“It’s in D.C.,” said Coulson. “I’m keeping it in my office. I thought you knew that.”

“No. I actually haven’t been to your office.”

“Really?” said Coulson. “You’ve been working for me for what, two months now? And we still haven’t been back there?”

“Yeah, that is kind of hard to believe, but it’s true,” said Hillary. “We’ve been too busy chasing Hydra.”

“Yeah, well, tell you what, when this is over I can bring you down to D.C.. We can have some down time doing office work”

“Sounds good,” said Hillary.

Coulson went to eat out with Parsons and to spend the night in a hotel. Hillary went to her home. Her parents had saved her some chicken and salad from their Sunday dinner. The entire family had come over, but when Hillary got there only Greg and Julia were left, and they didn’t stay very long after she got home, since they had to go to a party with Greg’s family.

After she had finished dinner and changed her clothes she checked her social media accounts. Tony Stark had posted a group photo of the Avengers, but other than that there wasn’t much going on.

Then she got a text from Mitch.

Mitch: Hey, Hillary, what’s happening?

Hillary: Not much. I’m just at home right now. What’s happening with you?

Mitch: I’m packing to leave. My flight gets out at six in the morning. Srsly ticked at Coulson right now.

Hillary: Mitch, trust me, Coulson is the last person you should be ticked at

Mitch: Haha, right. 

Hillary: so shouldn’t you be in bed?

Mitch: I’m getting ready for bed right now.

Hillary: So how was your weekend visiting family?

Mitch: it was better than nothing. But unfortunately it was too short.

Hillary: That’s too bad. Maybe you should get a cold. ;)

Mitch: No thanks. But seriously, though, are you and your family okay?

Hillary: Yes, we’re fine. We have the police watching our house now.

Mitch: that must have been scary, having a Hydra guy trying to break into your house.

Hillary: Better a break-in than a bomb, as I always say.

Mitch: how’s your friend Jason Retniw doing?

Hillary: He’s doing fine. But we told him to lie low for a little while.

Mitch: how come?

Hillary: There might be some people trying to hurt him who are connected to Hydra.

Mitch: Really. Who?

Hillary: Well, Hydra itself, maybe. But he doesn’t want to be too careful. Neither do I. 

Mitch: Coulson said he helped you take down the guy.

Hillary: Yeah. But I don’t think watching him pop a cyanide sat with him very well.

Mitch: IDK if that would sit well with anybody.

Hillary: Right. 

Mitch: But they were after you, weren’t they?

Hillary: I don’t know. They’re trying to get to the Winter Soldier. You remember what I told you about him?

Mitch: Yeah. Fancy they’d be trying to look for him in Mesa.

Hillary: Well, we’ll just see what they’re really getting at.


	5. Coulson in Command

Monday morning came too quickly for Hillary. She picked up Coulson from his hotel and they went together to pick up Mitch at Sky Harbor Airport. They ate a quick breakfast at McDonalds’ and then went to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. 

When they entered the office suite, Parsons came running out to meet them.

“What’s happening?” asked Coulson.

“We just got a phone call from Sierra Vista,” said Parsons, looking grave. “Michael Lemicks has escaped from prison.”

Coulson swore. “Are you serious?”

“What?” said Hillary.

“No way!” said Mitch. “That was a secure prison, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what we thought,” said Parsons, taking them to Agent Clay’s cubicle. The computer monitor showed a surveillance cam from a prison compound somewhere. “We’re thinking he may have had an inside man.”

“But where would the Free Range Party get an inside man at a prison?” asked Coulson. “He hasn’t been in there longer than seven months.”

“Maybe they have a few contacts?” said Mitch.

“Contacts--wait, no, Mitch! Hydra!” Hillary exclaimed.

Mitch and Coulson both looked at Hillary.

“The Free Range Party--Jason Retniw and I both stopped them from hurting Mitch. Retniw was with me on Saturday when Hydra’s goon attacked my house. It’s connected.”   
Hillary slapped herself. “It’s connected!” 

“Wait, so is Hydra not after the Winter Soldier? Is that what I’m hearing?” asked Parsons.

“Back up, back up,” said Hillary. “No, Hydra is after me and Jason Retniw. They don’t like what we did to the Free Range Party, and the Free Range Party wants a leg up getting   
even.”

“It was more than a leg up,” Agent Clay commented from the side. “It was a huge favor.” 

“But how is the Winter Soldier not involved in all this?” asked Coulson.

Just then, Agent Marcie Johnson came running into the room. “Sir!”

They all looked up.

“I just got back from the county office. We have a search warrant,” she waved a piece of paper in her hand. “And we have an address: 53 South Mesquite Lane. The Super 8 Motel.   
He was staying there.”

“Great, let’s go,” said Coulson. “Parsons, Hillary, Mitch, Johnson, and Swill, you are all coming with me. Clay and Kearns, hold the fort down.”

“Yes sir,” said Hillary. Everyone Coulson had mentioned packed their things to leave. 

“We can take my car,” said Marie. “It should seat all of us.” 

Hillary was looking through her briefcase to pick out what she should take with her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hillary.”

She looked up at Coulson. “Yes?”

“Is there something you wish to tell me?”

“No,” said Hillary. “Now really isn’t a good time.”

“Really, because it sounds like something I need to know right away.”

Hillary shook her head open-mouthed at Coulson, then she walked away, carrying her purse.

Coulson watched her exit the office suite with his arms folded.

Hillary half-expected the police or Hydra or someone to show up and stop them during their search, but nothing of the sort happened. The desk receptionist took them to the room and opened up for them. Stall had been a smoker, and so they opened the windows to let it air out. Swill had to step outside on account of his asthma. 

Stall had apparently left his cellular phone in the hotel room, so Parsons put it in a plastic bag for later data retrieval. They also found a legal notepad with squarish handwriting detailing with notes and diagrams a residential area. Hillary felt nearly sick to her stomach when she realized it was hers. But the only labels on the map were street names and places where the Police or S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles had been seen. There was also a map of a business district in Scottsdale, the place where Tanner automotive was located, and the area of Tempe where the S.H.I.E.L.D. office was. There was an unfolded street map on the nightstand that had been the basis for some of these diagrams.

Marcie found a set of keys on the dresser.

“Did he have a car?” asked Coulson.

“1994 Mazda,” said Marcie. They went outside, finding the car parked just below the hotel room balcony.

“Apparently he liked to walk,” said Agent Swill.

“Apparently this place is also close enough to your neighborhood, Tanner, that he could just walk there,” said Parsons.

“Is it?” she asked.

“It is,” said Parsons. “That’s Brown Road, right there. The intersection that goes to your neighborhood is two blocks down.”

Hillary had to think really hard. Of course she knew where they were. She had to drive past this motel to go to the store or to her dad’s garage most of the time.

Coulson was supervising Mitch inside the hotel room in collecting evidence. Parsons, Hillary, and Marcie went out to Stall’s car. They found a wad of cash in the armrest of the   
driver’s seat that, when later counted, added up to nearly fifty thousand dollars. There were some drugs and beer bottles in the glove compartment. There was a handgun and a large automatic rifle in the trunk, both in a padlocked case. The back seat had a few hairs that they bagged for later identification. Anything else in the car was trash--except for a white business card. The business card was labelled with the address of the Arizona Free Range Party office in Phoenix and the state party director.

“Well, that confirms your theory, Hillary,” said Marcie, putting the card in a bag.

“It doesn’t confirm anything,” said Parsons gruffly.

They went back up to the hotel room, where Coulson and Mitch were going through the dead man’s suitcase. Marcie showed the business card to Coulson. 

“I dunno, Parsons,” said Coulson. “I don’t think it’s too much of a coincidence.”

Coulson instructed them to pack up the things they had found and start taking them to Marcie’s car. They got in and drove back to Tempe.

“Well the drawn-up maps confirm that Hydra was targeting Hillary’s family,” said Parsons as they drove. “They also indicate that maybe they were planning to go after us.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” asked Coulson. 

It certainly didn’t make Hillary feel better, that was for sure. She leaned over from the back seat to the middle. 

“Coulson, do you think I should tell my folks any of this?”

“I’d say keep a lid on it for now,” said Coulson. “At least until we find out more about what they’re after.” 

“So what are we doing next, Director?” asked Swill.

“We’re going to go back to the office and start digging through this stuff,” said Coulson. “Johnson, I need you and Parsons to go through his cell phone records, see what you can   
dig up. Also, I want to know why he has a map of a business park in Scottsdale. Swill, you and Agent Kearns will go to Tanner Automotive. I need you to investigate the records of their recent customers.”

“About how far back, sir?” said Swill. 

“Give it a month,” said Coulson. 

Parsons got a brief phone call. When he hung up, he said, “Sir, they’ve just had a lead on the Lemicks breakout. One of the prison wardens has disappeared. Another one   
confessed to taking bribes from the missing officer.”

“No doubt that’s our guy,” said Coulson. “I want names and facts.”

Coulson is on a roll today, Hillary thought. While Coulson and Parsons continued to talk, Hillary leaned forward in her seat. She texted her dad.

Hey, just giving you a heads up, dad, S.H.I.E.L.D. is sending a couple of people over to look at the garage.

Her father texted her back within a minute.

Thanks for telling me, sweetie. 

Hillary hoped that meant her dad knew that meant to get Bucky’s things out of sight before S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived. 

When they got back to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office, Swill and Kearns set off for Tanner Automotive while Hillary and the rest started digging through the possessions of Marvin Stall. The text message history indicated that he was in contact with other people in Hydra who were staying close by. The contact info gave them two names to work from: Max Philips and Carl Wilmer. A quick internet search revealed that John Philips and Carl Wilmer Senior had been partners in a now-defunct law firm in downtown Phoenix. One of the phone numbers had even once belonged to the firm.

“The Philips and Wilmer law firm was the front door to the Hydra base we took out last August,” Parsons informed Coulson. “We shut down their law firm. So apparently Hydra is still in the area, but just at a different location.”

Coulson’s face sagged with a frown. “Cut off one head, two more will take its place, cut off one head, two more will take its place,” he muttered. “But why here...and why now?”  
He paced the room.

Hillary thought she had a pretty good guess. Mitch tried to catch her eye but she looked away.

They texted the information they had found to Swill and Kearns who were out at Tanner Automotive. Kearns and Swill persuaded Trey to email his customer files from the first of the year onward to S.H.I.E.L.D.. A search of these files revealed an address that came close to the Scottsdale business address, belonging to a Wilson White. 

The name Wilson White, however, yielded no search results on the internet or in the S.H.I.E.L.D. computer records.

“It’s probably a pseudonym,” said Coulson. “Whoever it was came in, had their tires rotated, and forwarded the bill to Hydra.”

“So Hydra has its head in Scottsdale, then?” said Kearns.

“It’s a start,” said Parsons. “I’ll bet you they have multiple locations. It’s a big area. They could have little bases hidden here and there, so they can strike from anywhere they   
want.” 

“So where’s the other base, then, if there is one?” asked Agent Clay.

“I’ll bet you Philips or Wilmer know,” said Coulson. 

“I’ve found an address for Carl Wilmer, Sr.,” said Swill, calling over from his computer.

“Good, where is it?”

“It’s in Sun City West, in a retirement community.”

“Good. I want him in for questioning. And do you have any results for Carl Wilmer, Jr.?”

“Still working on that,” Swill added. 

Coulson paced around to Swill’s cubicle. “It wouldn’t be too much to get Wilmer Sr. into a police station for questioning, would it?”

“No, shouldn’t be too hard,” said Parsons.

“How old is he? Eighty-six? Eighty-seven?”

“Eighty-nine,” said Swill. “Carl Wilmer Sr., born Karl Winterhalter, he was an SS officer in Hitler’s Third Reich. He also did a few months supervising the guards at a concentration camp.”

“So he’s definitely a Nazi, but what about Hydra?”

“Wilmer Sr. claimed that he thought Hydra was too radical, which by the end of the war was the Nazi party line towards Hydra, they practically disowned Schmidt,” said Swill. “But Wilmer claimed after the war that he’d gotten disillusioned with the Nazis period. He was able to come to America, go to law school, and set up a nice little firm here in Phoenix.”

“And Philips?”

“John Philips was his partner at the firm, but they ended up going their separate ways. Wilmer ran the firm but still kept the name Wilmer and Philips. Apparently Philips’ son Max became a lawyer and took his place, so it worked out in the end. Max Philips and Carl Wilmer Jr. went to law school together, but Wilmer Jr. never settled down to become a lawyer. He joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and ended up in Hydra, and he got Max to join, too, and to run Hydra out of his dad’s law office. They were good friends, and huge political whackos. But of course we shut them down last August.”

“And what happened to Philips and Wilmer Jr.?”

“That’s actually a good question,” said Parsons. “They must have gotten wind right before we raided their base, because we never found them. And all of their thugs took cyanide,   
so we don’t know where.” 

Hillary cringed.

“I hate how they do the whole cyanide thing,” said Marcie. “Especially when they all drop dead at once.” 

“I’ve got a result,” Swill spoke up. “The Philips and Wilmer office that we raided last August was actually the firm’s second location. Their firm had their first office on Palo Verde Street in Phoenix.”

“That’s the ghetto part of town now,” said Marcie. “Ew.”

“It’s a good place to hide if you don’t want to be found, though.” said Hillary.

“Tomorrow, then,” said Coulson, “we’ll go check out their old office on our way to visit Wilmer Sr.”

Hillary was over at the office until seven o’clock that night. She returned home exhausted and crashed on the living room couch. Tomorrow was going to be pretty busy as well.

Her father was in the living room, also, watching a basketball game.

“So how did it go, Dad, when they came and searched you?” asked Hillary. 

“It didn’t go too bad,” said Trey. 

“Did you get Bucky’s things put away?”

“I just tidied it up a little,” said Trey. “Organized it on the couch and under it. They didn’t pay too much attention. And Pablo and Benny were talking out loud about Bucky while   
your friends were there, but I don’t think the name rang a bell to either of them.”

“There aren’t many people who know him by that name,” said Hillary. “Thank goodness for that.”

She was silent for a moment. Then, she said, “Dad, I’m not allowed to tell you everything, but things for us are probably a lot more dangerous than you realize.”

“Okay.”

“So just be careful.”

“I’ll do that,” said Trey. 

Hillary sighed. “With any luck, we just might get through this.”


	6. Dust and Old Bones

The next day, Tuesday, Kearns, Marcie and Swill stayed at the Tempe office to hold down the fort and work on tracking down Lemicks. Coulson, however, suspected that if Hydra was behind his escape, then the trick was to find Hydra first. They called the Sun City West police department to bring in Wilmer for questioning, and then they drove out to downtown Phoenix to look at the law office. 

Hillary sat in the front of the S.H.I.E.L.D. car with Coulson as he drove. Though they used a GPS, Coulson was glad to have someone who knew the area to help him navigate. What was more, making small talk was Hillary’s way of steeling herself.

When they had run out of small talk, Hillary remembered that she’d wanted to ask Coulson a question.

“Coulson...about Star Wars,” she said, “You and Emily Bridger ran into the Winter Soldier right before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, didn’t you?”

“Yes, we did,” said Coulson. He sounded a little like he would rather have avoided the subject.

But Hillary pressed him further. “But you said the other day that you didn’t get to watch them fighting.”

“No, I didn’t. I had a bullet wound in my gut at the time.” He related the story to Hillary, sounding like he wanted to summarize but savoring the details at the same time.

“How much further?” asked Agent Parsons from the back.

“A few more minutes, and we should be there,” Hillary answered him. “Traffic doesn’t look too bad. So anyway,” she said when Parsons, Clay and Mitch had returned to their   
conversation, “I heard that after you went back to D.C., Emily actually went with Steve and Wilson on a trip to go find Bucky. Is that true?”

“Yeah, I let them take her,” said Coulson. “That’s how I was able to reveal myself to the Avengers, actually: she got captured by Hydra in San Antonio, but she sent Steve a text right before then telling him to call me for help. But it turned out she didn’t need it, though,” said Coulson, smiling faintly. “We showed up to rescue her, and she had already gotten out. I’ll have to tell you the whole story another time.”

“You can do that,” said Hillary. “But tell me, was there any particular reason that she went with Steve and Sam on that trip? I mean, I know she and Steve were friends, but -- “

“That’s part of the reason,” said Coulson. “But another thing was, her Force sensibilities…well...”

“What about them?”

“She could use them...to tell where he was. She woke up one night in D.C., saying she had dreamed about seeing him in the street. And she kept having insights about where he   
was. It was like she had this connection to him.”

“Connection? How so? Was it anything to do with the fact that he had nearly killed her?”

“No, she said it was different,” said Coulson. “She just...he just came across to her as different.”

“Hm.” Hillary wanted to ask more, but then the GPS announced that their destination was on the right. They had entered a run-down part of central Phoenix. There were old brick buildings with peeling paint and faded signs. 

“That’s it on the right,” said Agent Clay, leaning towards the window. They could make out the words WILMER AND PHILLIPS, ATTORNEYS, in faded letters over a first-story doorway. The second floor of the building had boarded up windows. There was also a chain and a padlock on the front door. Coulson steered the car into an alleyway behind the back of the building. There was a back door, also chained. When they got out, however, with their forensic gear and guns at the ready, a quick inspection by Parsons revealed that the chain was so rusty that it broke. The door had to be pulled out of the doorway somewhat, and it groaned and creaked and burst out in a shower of dust and cobwebs.

“Watch out for black widow spiders, everyone,” said Agent Clay. 

“Are they around this time of year?” asked Coulson.

“I don’t know,” said Parsons. “I’d be careful just in case. Clay, you stay outside and guard the perimeter.”

Parsons and Mitch were the first to enter. Hillary turned around to check and see if there was anyone following or watching them while Agent Clay circled around the outside of the building. As she turned to enter, she saw that Coulson was lingering on the cement doorstep.

“Well?”

“Heh, heh, it’s nothing,” said Coulson. He coughed and walked forward. Hillary entered a few steps behind him.

Inside, the dust and the cobwebs were so thick that they could see the beams of light coming from their flashlights. 

“Wait a moment,” said Hillary softly. “It was a place like this in Vegas, wasn’t it, where you and Emily -- “

Coulson turned around and cut her off with a look.

“Right, well, funny how that works.” They continued walking up the stairs. Hillary could feel the dust coating the insides of her nostrils. It was hard enough to breathe as it was (and still she was still getting over a cold at that), but she could imagine how unbearable it was to be inside this place during the middle of summer. From what she could see under the grime and cobwebs coating everything, the office had once been a respectable establishment with brass trimming on the stair rails and light fixtures. Judging by the orange paint, it couldn’t have been abandoned longer than thirty years. It was almost pitch-black in the hallways, and only thin slivers of gray light came out of the cracks in the doors.

At the top of the stairs they came to a back hallway. Several doors led off of it, but Coulson led them around to a staircase going down to the front of the building. 

“We’re staying together,” he said. 

All of the furniture had been taken, including the front desk in the reception area. A little more light came through the boarded window in the front. There was an old restroom and three offices downstairs. In the larger office they found some abandoned casebooks and a box of papers. Coulson indicated for Mitch to take the papers. They would have let everything else alone had Hillary not shone her flashlight on the bookshelf and noticed something--a handprint in the dust. She pulled out the tome that had been disturbed and gave it to Mitch. In another office they found a filing cabinet that was locked, but on picking the locks they found some papers in the bottom drawer.

“Take everything,” said Coulson. “Some of the dust looks disturbed in places--I think this building might have been used recently.”

“How recently, do you think?” asked Parsons.

“I don’t know.”

Parsons took the papers from the filing cabinet and the group headed upstairs. All of the doors in that top hallway led to empty rooms except one--a room in the front of the   
office that looked like it had once served as a staffroom of some kind. Parsons opened the door, and it creaked. The window was not boarded but there was a yellowed curtain   
tightly drawn over it. The room was washed in a pale gray light, and on the floor they could see thinner layers of dust over what looked like footprints. There was also a table in the middle of the room, and papers on the bookshelves on the side. 

“How did they get in here?” asked Hillary.

“Hydra has ways,” said Coulson. “That lock we broke out back--they put a new chain on there every time they come in.”

Mitch set down the pile of papers on the table. “They must not come into here that often.”

Agent Parsons gathered the papers that were on the shelves. He started skimming them.

From what Hillary could see, they were typewritten, which made them at least twenty years old. 

“Mm, ah-ha!” said Parsons, pulling a set of papers out of the folder. “Look what I found.”

“Whoa-ho-ho,” said Hillary, taking one of the pages. It had a letterhead for the Arizona Free Range Party at the top--an older logo than the one on Stall’s calling card, but   
unmistakable.

Coulson came over for a look. He examined the paper as well as a calling card that was in the folder. “It seems the Free Range Party has been working with Hydra for a long time.   
This letter dates from nineteen seventy...six. Dang.”

He walked over to the window, looking at the calling card. Mitch and Hillary went back to the table to look through the papers they had found. The book that Hillary had taken from the office had a paper folded inside of it, a list of various Hydra agendas which included recruiting the favor of the Arizona FRP. The other papers she looked at mentioned the Arizona branch of the organization specifically.

“It keeps mentioning the Arizona Free Range Party,” said Hillary. “But what about the Free Range Party in general? Is Hydra linked to the rest of the organization at all?”

“I don’t know,” asked Mitch. “It might be worth looking into.”

“But what would Hydra want in Arizona?” asked Parsons.

“That Uranium in the Grand Canyon, that’s what,” said Coulson. He leaned over to the window and pulled back the curtain just a bit. He kept an eye on the deserted street outside while the others continued looking through the papers. 

Parsons had handed the file on the Free Range Party to Mitch while he looked at a case of papers listing people who had served in the state legislature and their affiliations with Hydra up until about ten years ago. There were not many openly aligned with Hydra, but it disturbed him all the same--he had voted for some of these people, even.

Mitch was looking through another part of the stack of papers when he noticed something. He pulled out a paper and showed it to Parsons. “Look. This is S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff.”  
Parsons took the paper. It had an older version of the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on it. There were also plenty of newer, whiter papers of more recent date.

“My guess is,” said Parsons, “that Hydra operatives within S.H.I.E.L.D. must have passed information freely to the Free Range Party.”

“So when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell last April,” said Hillary, “the Free Range Party lost a valuable source of info, so now they have to attack us directly.” She looked at Mitch.

“That makes sense,” said Mitch. 

“If Hydra is using this place then they must not come here very often,” said Hillary. “They probably keep most of their stuff at the Scottsdale place. This is some kind of a repository.”

“You’re right,” said Coulson, stepping away from the window. “We’ll have to take these papers back to Tempe for a closer look. There’s a safe in the car, it should be big enough.” They stacked the papers and folders together, and Hillary brought the book. They went down the back staircase fairly quickly. Everyone took big gulps of the fresh air when they emerged outside. Agent Clay was waiting for them by the car.

“That didn’t take you too long,” said Clay.

“And it wasn’t booby-trapped, either,” said Parsons.

“All the same,” said Coulson, “I want this place on secure lockdown. Clay, open the trunk so we can get these papers put away. Parsons, I want you to call Marcie and tell her to   
get the SWAT team and the Police Department out here. And check with her to see if Wilmer Sr. is going to come in today.”

Parsons was on the phone when they pulled out of the back parking lot. Hillary was wondering where they were going to next when he handed the phone to Coulson. 

“Hello, Marcie. What’s happening? Oh….I see. Yeah, well--wait, what do you mean, he’s not at home? Well, find out where he’s gone and bring him in! Hydra is trying to kill one   
of my agents and I’d like to find out where they’re at! Got it? Okay...sorry I yelled at you. Right. Bye.”

Coulson hung up. He gave a heavy sigh.

“What was that for?” asked Hillary.

“Carl Wilmer Senior will not show up for questioning,” said Coulson. “He refuses to answer his phone. He’s not at home. We’re going to have to bring him in by force.”

“What do you need, boss?” asked Parsons.

Coulson handed the phone back to him. “Marcie’s already calling the police there. I need you to talk to the county sheriff’s office to see if they can help find him.”

“Got it.”

Mitch and Agent Clay were silent in the back seat while Parsons was on the phone. 

Coulson said quietly to Hillary, “So, yeah, the place in Vegas where Emily and I met the Winter Soldier was a lot like that. And oddly enough that will have been a year ago next   
month.”

“Were you afraid that Hydra was going to attack us again while we were in there?”

“I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to jinx us,” said Coulson. “I already almost lost one agent in a dusty old building.”

“Well, do you ever think that somebody jinxed Bucky Barnes?”

“I think somebody jinxed him, I think somebody jinxed Steve Rogers, I think somebody jinxed me. I think we’re all cursed.”

“Well, we weren’t attacked back there, so it’s not holding up.”

“Well...it’s not that I’m scared or anything, but, this isn’t over yet.”

Hillary wanted to pat Coulson on the shoulder, but he was driving. “Don’t worry, boss,” said Hillary. “We’ll get through this okay.” 

 

They drove out towards Sun City West. Hillary had never been out this way before. For one thing, though, it stood to reason because it was a very long drive. It had not been half an hour since Coulson’s phone conversation with Marcie when she called them back. 

This time, Coulson was in a much better mood when he hung up. 

“They found Carl Wilmer Sr.,” he said, smiling smugly. “He was on his way out of town. Someone in Peoria recognized his car and pulled him over.”

Another fifteen minutes later, they entered the Sun City West city limits. Every street that turned off the main road led to one quiet retirement community after another, each with   
matching houses of adobe walls and tile roofs. The police station had an exterior of brown adobe and blue glass.

They were waiting for only a few minutes in one of the back rooms before their subject entered. It seemed wrong to have a frail-looking old man enter handcuffed and squeezed between two cross-looking police officers. But when he saw the gathered S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, he looked up at them and gave them a slow, wide smile, and Hillary knew he was not to be trusted.

Carl Wilmer Sr. was still tall in his old age. He had put on a bit of weight around his middle, and his head was a shiny dome fringed with white. He wore a yellow polo shirt, khaki shorts, and tennis shoes.

Coulson got up to greet him cordially, but eyeing the handcuffs checked himself before accidentally reaching to shake his hand. The two policemen guided him into the interrogation room, around the table and then onto a chair. Coulson asked the policemen to leave and then introduced the other agents in the room.

“Mr. Wilmer, you are already facing charges for evading questioning by police,” said Agent Parsons. “Don’t make this worse on yourself.”

“Parsons, do show him some respect,” said Coulson.

“But what am I making worse on myself?” said Wilmer. He had only the very faintest trace of a German accent in his deep voice. “The police didn’t say what I was being brought in   
for.”

Hillary was tempted to ask if he understood that police didn’t tell people why they were being questioned. 

Coulson sat directly across the table from Wilmer and folded his hands together. “You’re probably wondering what this is about. My name is Phil Coulson. I’m the director of   
S.H.I.E.L.D.. Does that name have any significance to you?”

Wilmer tried to draw a blank expression. “No.”

“Really? That’s surprising, because your son Carl used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Until last April, that is.”

“Do I get a lawyer?”

“No, but considering you used to be one I think you could defend yourself, if it came to it.” 

“I still want one. It’s been years since I practiced law. I’m happily retired now. The rules and regulations might have changed since then.”

“Carl Wilmer, your son used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., you should know that you don’t get a lawyer.” 

“Doesn’t that go against my constitutional rights? I mean, I am an American citizen, after all.” 

“Sir, the information you choose to grant or withhold at this time may put innocent lives at stake. You do not get a lawyer. So tell me,” Coulson adjusted himself in his seat and tried to look a little more friendly, “as I was saying, your son worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. until about a year ago. Are you aware of the circumstances of his leaving S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“It’s my understanding that S.H.I.E.L.D. was caught in a government scam and was nearly shut down,” said Wilmer.

“Mr. Wilmer,” said Hillary, “S.H.I.E.L.D. was discovered to have been harboring a secret organization known as Hydra. It was all over the news. Certainly you were aware of this?”

“I was, yes,” said Wilmer. But--”

“But when this occurred,” said Coulson, “your son was revealed to be one of the people working for Hydra. And since that time, Hydra has been rebuilding. Now last August, these   
agents here discovered a Hydra cell operating out of your old law office.”

“I was aware of that,” said Wilmer. “That’s why I lost some of my retirement money. The government shut it down on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s order. It was very unfortunate.”

“And have you seen your son since that time?”

“My son Carl?”

Coulson nodded.

“No, I haven’t seen him. He’s dropped by my house once or twice to say hello, just to tell me he was okay.”

“So Carl Wilmer, Jr. got away from the bust. Do you have any idea why or how?” asked Agent Parsons.

“Got away from it?” asked Wilmer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My son wasn’t in the office that day. Max Philips offered him a job there as a secretary after   
S.H.I.E.L.D. went under--he wasn’t doing anything illegal.”

“Yes he was,” said Hillary sternly. “He put his name on all of the Hydra files we seized in the raid. And Max Philips had his name on there, too. Now, we believe that Hydra has   
been up to some activity in the area in recent weeks.”

“Well, I’m the wrong person you should be asking about it.”

“Really? Well, has Carl been by to see you anytime recently?”

“No,” said Wilmer. “I haven’t seen him since last January. He’s been living in California. Working for a fruit company. He’s a good, honest man. He does the right thing. He   
would never -- “

“Mr. Wilmer, have you, or have you not, seen your son since January?”

“I haven’t,” said Wilmer. 

Hillary knew he was lying. 

“Have you been in contact with him at all? Phone calls? Emails? Text?”

“He does call, every so often, yeah,” Wilmer nodded.

“And do any of his other friends of colleagues contact you? Max Phillips perhaps?”

“No. Max doesn’t come by to see me,” Wilmer laughed. “I don’t know why he would.”

Agent Clay spoke up. “Do you ever go to visit your old office in Phoenix, Mr. Wilmer? The one on Palo Verde?”

Wilmer gave a hearty laugh. “Why do you think I’d bother? The place is full of dust and cobwebs and who knows what else! I’d be surprised if the place was even still standing.”

“Well, it is. It was used for Hydra activities in the past, so why not continue using it?” said Coulson. “Your son and his friends have made use of it as a repository for old   
documents--stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. files included, it turns out. And in recent months, they have even used it as a meeting place.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” said Wilmer. “Why would they even go to such a place if they could meet anywhere that was nice and air-conditioned and with running water?”

“How about the Free Range Party?” asked Hillary.

“What?” Wilmer started.

“The Arizona Free Range Party? Haven’t you heard about them?”

“They make waves in the news headlines every so often, why shouldn’t I have?”

He knew more than he was saying. 

“Well, the Arizona Free Range Party has been around for a long time, Mr. Wilmer,” said Hillary. “Longer than your old building in Phoenix has been in disuse. And you were a   
lawyer. They would have come to you for help, in cases.”

“Ah, you have me there,” said Wilmer, looking at the table. “They used to deal with my law office some of the time, just trying to keep certain lands away from the feds. They   
wanted us to help support private ranchers, you know, and developers. We did good business, helping them.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Hillary, walking around the table. “And in return, Hydra used your office to smuggle stolen information from S.H.I.E.L.D. to the Free Range Party.”

“Tchah, that’s ridiculous,” said Wilmer. “I never saw anything like that going on. Probably never happened.” 

“Well, we have the evidence, so it did happen,” said Coulson. 

“Look,” said Carl Wilmer. “I do not know what Hydra or the Free Range Party has to do with any of this. What my son does is none of your business.”

“Your son could be trying to hurt people,” said Hillary darkly. “If we don’t do anything to stop Hydra, then he might do something you’re not proud of.”

“What if I am proud of him, then?” asked Wilmer. “What if he’s still my son no matter what he does? Then it’s none of your business what he is doing.”

“This ‘none of your business’ crap is getting old,” Parsons said. He walked up to the table and emphatically put his hand down. “I mean it. Now tell us, where is your son?”

Carl Wilmer looked down at the table. “Junior called me last weekend to tell me he was in town--no, it was two weekends ago, now”

“He did?” said Hillary.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” said Mitch.

“I’m just trying to protect the family,” said Wilmer. “Not that I have much family left to protect. My son, he’s all I’ve got. I’m not in Hydra. I’m better than that. But Junior, he’s an   
idealist. He thought Johann Schmidt and Arnim Zola had the right idea, to take over the world. But we all know they were really lunatics. I have nothing to do with this.” His   
facial expression was constructed such that he appeared to be offended by his son’s ideals. 

“But you still supported your son’s activities,” said Coulson. “You let him run Hydra, right out of your office.”

“That wasn’t my concern, what he was specifically trying to do,” said Wilmer. “I used to think he was trying to make the world a better place, but now I think he’s gotten carried   
away. I cannot help him.”

Coulson looked Wilmer dead in the eye. “I need names, Wilmer. Dates, places. Things that can help us find him.” 

“I don’t think I know anything of that sort,” said Wilmer. “When Junior called, he didn’t say where he was exactly or how long he was going to be here.” 

“But did he say what he was doing?” asked Hillary.

“No.”

“Now, Mr. Wilmer,” Agent Clay spoke up from the back, “can you tell me the name of the company your son works for?”

“Resser Fruits, Inc.,--a respectable business. Selling oranges and lemons. Citrus fruits.”

“Resser Fruits,” Clay said, writing down the name on a notepad. “Where are they located out of?”

“Their corporate headquarters is in San Diego.”

“But do they have an office anywhere in the area?” asked Clay.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Wilmer. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised, it’s a great place for growing citrus.”

“How about in Scottsdale?” asked Hillary.

“Scottsdale?” asked Wilmer.

“Yes, Scottsdale.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know for sure,” said Wilmer. “It’s a big metro area.”

“And how about the Winter Soldier?” asked Agent Parsons. “He’s also known as the Asset. Have you heard of him or anything about him?”

“No,” said Wilmer. He shook his head very slightly.

“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Wilmer,” said Coulson. “I am sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.” 

“It’s not a problem,” said Wilmer. “It’s not the first time I’ve been in handcuffs--driving while intoxicated back in ‘73.”

“We knew that.”


	7. A Night's Shelter

“Full. Of. Baloney,” said Hillary as they left the police station. “Carl Wilmer is clearly in on this. But I’m sure if he says anything then that’ll be the end of his long, happy retirement.”

“Well, I’m afraid for right now we don’t have any way of proving just how involved he is,” said Coulson.

“We did get something out of it, though,” said Agent Parsons.

“And as it turns out,” said Agent Clay as he fumbled with his smartphone, “Resser Fruits does have an office here in the Phoenix Area. 93 Antelope Circle in Scottsdale.”

“Antelope Circle. That’s up where the rich people live,” said Hillary.

Coulson sighed.

“So do we just call up this office and ask if they know where Max Philips or Carl Wilmer Jr. are?” asked Mitch.

“Of course we don’t,” said Hillary irritably.

“I was being rhetorical.”

“Yes, well, the first thing we need to do is to see if we can scout them out without getting too close,” said Coulson.

“I think that can arrange that,” said Agent Parsons. “Anyone up for lunch?”

“I’d like a diet coke,” said Hillary.

“You sound like you could use one,” said Mitch.

Hillary smiled. Mitch was learning to read her.

They stopped at a Subway they had passed on their way in and ate their sandwiches in the car. Coulson did his best to drive one-handed while eating. Hillary could tell he was an   
expert at that sort of thing. 

When they arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Tempe, Kearns and Swill were out for lunch, but Marcie was there to help them sort through the papers they had brought. Kearns   
and Swill returned soon enough and heard about the search and the interrogation.

And the in the middle of the afternoon, as they were scanning the papers they had recovered at the Hydra base, Agent Parsons got a phone call. After several tense minutes, he   
came out of his office.

“That was the warden in Sierra Vista giving me an update on the Lemicks case,” said Parsons.

Coulson looked at him expectantly. “Did they find him?”

“No,” said Parsons irritably. “But they traced the car of the guard who helped him out. He parked it in Tuscon and stole a car there.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Coulson leaned back against the agents’ desks and folded his arms. 

“The warden said it was likely that Lemicks was on his way here.”

“Of course he is. He’s got friends up here. Lots of them,” said Coulson,

“Sir, we have the offices for the Arizona Free Range Party under surveillance,” said Marcie. “And Hydra likely knows about it by now.”

Coulson rubbed his chin. “So he’ll go to Hydra directly.”

“And don’t forget that we interrogated him recently,” said Mitch. “He’ll be able to tell them what we’re up to.”

Agent Parsons gave off a groan that expressed how Hillary felt. Kearns, Marcie, Swill, and Clay looked sick.

“Well,” Coulson looked up and looked at each of the agents in the face. “Well, we have a name for Hydra’s location. Let’s scout it out.”

“Right, sir,” said Agent Swill. “If you’ll follow me. I’m rather good with drones.” Agent Swill returned to his desk.

Agent Swill had a surveillance drone that he had prepared especially for the use of their office. It was equipped with visible light, infrared, and x-ray cameras. While Hillary and   
the other agents continued to scan and transfer data from Hydra’s stash of documents, Swill showed Coulson the drone and got it set up. They would drive out to Scottsdale that   
night and fly it over the office park where the Resser offices were. Everyone else was dismissed to go home at seven.

Hillary was in the parking lot and getting ready to get in her car when her phone rang. The caller ID said Jason Retniw.

“Hello?” she said into the receiver. 

“Hillary! Hey, how’s it going?” a familiar voice answered.

“Well, you picked a fine time to call,” said Hillary. “I thought I said I would call you.”

“I was just wondering what was happening,” he told her. “I figured I’d ask you. There hasn’t been anything in the news--”

“I’m just getting off work--” She heard Mitch shouting goodbye to her from across the parking lot as he and Coulson were getting into their rental car to go to their hotel. Hillary waved goodbye to them, and then continued to speak into the phone in a lowered voice. “Sorry about that. Just saying goodnight to my coworkers.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Where are you?” 

“I am clear on the other side of town, out on Power Road. So it probably wouldn’t make sense for you to come and pick me up.” Hillary thought she heard traffic from the other   
end of the phone. “But is it safe for me to come home now?”

“No, it’s not safe, but you can come home if you like. I suppose it’s as good a place as any for me to tell you what’s going on.”

“Okay. I’ll be there. I’m on my way.”

“I’ll see you there, then.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. 

 

Hillary texted her mom to tell her that their friend was coming. Not surprisingly, Hillary was the first one home. Her sister Julia and brother-in-law Greg were visiting, and they and her parents were just about to sit down for dinner.

“Will we be needing one more place setting?” Jo asked her.

“He could be here any minute, go ahead.”

She helped Jo to set out a plate and utensils and they sat down to eat. But then he didn’t come until they were just about finished eating. He didn’t even knock: he just walked in   
through the kitchen door with his duffel bag over his shoulder and his ball cap still on his head like it had stayed there the entire time he had been gone.

Several people called out, “Bucky!” as soon as he had entered the kitchen.

“Hello,” he said dully, looking at them and nodding. He put his duffel bag on the bar.

“We’re not quite finished with dinner, would you like something to eat, dear?” asked Jo.

“I guess while it’s still hot,” said Bucky. His place was between Hillary and Greg. He sat down without taking off his jacket. They passed him the serving dishes and he loaded his   
plate with potato casserole. He looked in need of a shave and a shower and there were pronounced pouches under his eyes.

“I was over at the garage yesterday and you weren’t there,” said Greg. “Where’ve you been?”

“Lying low,” said Bucky. “Some unsavory characters came into town that I felt I needed to avoid.”

“Oh,” said Julia. She looked at Hillary. “Is this part of Hillary’s week at work being crazy?”

“Somewhat,” said Hillary, “but I’d prefer if we didn’t flaunt that connection to hard.”

“But how are you guys doing?” Bucky asked Greg. Greg eagerly supplied him with details about how things were at his store. While they talked, Bucky stole a side glance at   
Hillary. Hillary gave him a small smile, not sure what he was looking for. He gave her one back.

Greg and Julia finished up their dinner and then got up to leave. Julia gave Hillary an extra-big hug as she walked out.

“I hope everything’s not too crazy this week, gurl,” said Julia.

“Thanks.”

“Good luck. Text me and let me know how you’re doing.”

“If I get the chance,” said Hillary.

Greg and Julia left out the back door. Bucky collected his bag and went to Cody’s room, and then he got in the shower. Hillary helped her mother with the dishes. 

A half an hour later, Bucky came out to the living room, dressed in clean clothes and clean-shaven, and he plopped down on the couch. 

What bothered Hillary was not that his metal arm was exposed under his short sleeves, but that he was wearing a bright purple Phoenix Suns shirt. She snickered at him.

He pricked up his head. “What was that for?”

She looked out of the sliding glass doors and then closed the blinds over them. “Purple really isn’t your color, Bucky.”

“Really? Well, your dad gave me this shirt so I’m afraid I have to wear it anyway.”

Hillary laughed. 

Mudder the cat came into the living room. He sniffed at Bucky’s toes and then climbed up onto the couch next to him.

Hillary sat down on Bucky’s other side. 

“So how did you like being on your own for a weekend?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” said Bucky. “I wish I’d waited a little longer to eat that sandwich. I got Sunday dinner from a soup kitchen in Gilbert. I stayed out on Power Road and   
Guadalupe.

“So what’s been happening with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” he asked her.

“It’s a lot,” she said. 

Her mother had started the dishwasher and gone to her room, so they had the living room to themselves. Hillary told him everything, starting with when she had called   
S.H.I.E.L.D. after he had gone on Saturday, up through the news about Michael Lemicks being traced to Phoenix. 

She took a deep breath after she had said everything.

“So Director Coulson, and Mitch, and your other S.H.I.E.L.D. friends...none of them know about me?” 

“I’m not sure. But I’ve managed to be able to not say anything so far. We’re just too preoccupied trying to find out where Hydra is. But Coulson’s scared, though. Well, scared may be too strong a word. But he’s worried. He thought we had Hydra taken care of down here. He doesn’t know how or why they’ve started building up again.”

“Apart from it being anything to do with me?”

“No. Unless we find other evidence pointing to the contrary, it was definitely because of you. I think the Free Range Party may be wanting retaliation for what we did to them -- “

“But that’s still because of me,” said Bucky. “I’m so sorry, Hillary. I never meant to put your family in danger.”

“No, don’t talk like that,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s just Hydra trying to have its way again. But, if you don’t mind me asking, though, do you know anything else about   
Hydra’s activities here? At least, in the last seventy-odd years?”

“I don’t think so. They never brought me here. Phoenix was a little too warm for their frozen asset.” He had been stroking the cat, but Mudder got up and moved to the end of   
the couch and started to clean himself. 

Hillary laughed weakly.

Bucky smiled, but then the grin faded off his face. “But that’s why I came here, though. I thought I’d be safe.”

“I thought you’d be safe here too,” said Hillary. “At least, I thought I could keep S.H.I.E.L.D. from finding out about you. But now it seems like it’s only a matter of time. And I   
should’ve been more worried about Hydra. If there’s anyone to blame here, it’s me.” 

She slumped down with her head on her lap, groaning.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh...it’s just...everything,” she said, sitting up a little. “It’s Hydra and the Free Range Party and Coulson and Agent Parsons and YOU...and everything’s all jumbled together. I   
don’t know how I’m keeping my head on straight.”

“But if I wasn’t here, or if you didn’t know me, would you still be worried?”

“Well, let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that Hydra is building up here of its own initiative and not because they think they’ve found you. And everything was going crazy at   
once, the prison breakout, the leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. records...yeah, I’d still be stressed out, I think.”

“Well...it’s not just me, though, isn’t it? It’s your family.”

“That’s right. But that’s because we protected you! I mean, Parsons thinks he’s got a pretty valid explanation for why they’d want to target me. But...I don’t think Hydra would   
care regardless. If they wanted to get at me, they wouldn’t need motivation.”

“Do you think they’re that strong?”

“From the looks of things, yes, they’re that strong. And getting stronger.” She put her hand on her forehead. “Oh, Bucky, what am I gonna do? If we don’t stop Hydra here...and   
now..I don’t know if Hydra is growing strong like this again in other parts of the world. The Avengers seem to be doing a good job of tearing them down.” She looked at Bucky.   
“Oh. Right. Cut off one head, two more will take its place. We can’t stop them, can we?”

“Oh, no, don’t get hopeless on me,” he said, scooting closer to her. He put his metal arm around her shoulder. She thought it felt cold, but she was too stressed out to really care at the moment. “You can’t give up yet. I know it seems...daunting, trying to take down all of Hydra at once. But you’re not doing it alone. You’ve got Director Coulson and Mitch to help you out, and there’s other people working for S.H.I.E.L.D. around the world. And the Avengers, they’re doing a good job, tearing out Hydra’s big bases. It’s not hopeless. And if you can’t stop all of Hydra today, you can at least stop the people here from causing trouble.” He was rubbing those cold, metal fingers up and down her back. She wished she’d kept her jacket on. But at the same time she was starting to relax a little. “And you’ve got your family to support you. And I’m here for you.”  
Hillary looked up at him. He smiled.

“Bucky Barnes, you are something else.”

“No, I’m just trying to help you out here.” 

Hillary hugged him. They sat there on the couch for a minute, cuddling. Hillary didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry onto his shoulder or to break away from him. But at last,   
she did let go of him.

“Hey, Bucky, here’s a question.”

“What?”

“Do you think you’d like to go after Hydra, you know, and get payback for what they did to you?”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Well, don’t you ever want to?”

“No, I don’t,” he said. 

“Why not?”

“It’s not that I’m not angry about it,” said Bucky. “It’s just…” He broke off, looking away from her.

“It’s not the right time?”

“Yeah. It’s not. I guess you could say that.” He looked back at her. “I’ve still got a lot of issues to work through. And that guy in the backyard…”

“Yeah, I imagine that would have upset you. I understand.” Hillary leaned back and started rubbing his right shoulder. “But, you know, in case you’re interested, we could   
probably use a helping hand, taking down that other Hydra base in Scottsdale, whenever we find it.” 

“I don’t think so. That would involve revealing myself. And I thought we agreed not to go there.” He gave Hillary a playful squeeze around the shoulder.

“When did you get so huggy?” she said.

“Dunno. I heard that physical touch is good for you, is all. I don’t get nearly enough of it.”

“Me neither, come to think of it,” said Hillary. They held each other close. “I’ve just been so worried about you.”

“I’ve been worried about you.” There was a pause. Then Hillary leaned away from him. Mudder jumped off the end of the couch, so they sat on opposite ends of the sofa. 

“So were you okay, being on your own?”

“Yeah, I guess I was,” said Bucky. “But I should probably get out more often. I’ve been spoiled, living with you guys. I missed being able to take a shower, and not have to dig   
through the garbage for food, and sleeping on a bed at night.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“Well, Saturday night, it got to being dark. I found a Wal-Mart down on the other side of Mesa. There was a cardboard recycling bin back there that was open. I just piled some   
old grocery bags on top of that. It made a fairly decent bed. I made some similar arrangements across town.”

“Well, that was creative,” said Hillary. “How far out did you go?”

“Probably no further than the Gilbert city limits. I went back and forth a little. I didn’t want to be too far away.” 

“Do you think you’re ready to go back out there again?”

“If I have to. But do you need me to?”

Hillary felt awful sending him away. “If we have to. I’m afraid this whole thing with Hydra is going to take a while.”

“Well, that’s okay -- “

There came the noise of a ringtone from the bar in the kitchen. It was Trey’s phone. Jo came out of her bedroom.

“That’s where I put the phone,” she muttered. “I was just looking for it!” She answered it. “Hello? Oh, hi, Kenny! How are you?” Bucky and Hillary watched Jo while she talked on   
the phone. “Yes, you’re more than welcome to it. We’ll have it ready for you....At seven-thirty, usually. How long were you going to be up there, again?” Jo turned herself around. Her eyes rested on her daughter and Bucky. “That’s great. And what’s Barbara going to be doing?...oh, yes, that sounds wonderful. I’ve just been here at home this week working on a few sewing projects…. I’ll see you in the morning, then. Yes. Okay. Bye.” Jo removed the phone from her ear and ended the call.

“What was that about?” Hillary asked her.

“Uncle Kenny is going up to his cabin for the week,” said Jo. “He’s going to be starting on spring cleaning. He’ll be by first thing in the morning to borrow your dad’s chainsaw.”

“That’s nice,” said Hillary. Then she started. “Wait a moment.”

“What?” Bucky asked her.

“How would you like to go up to my uncle’s cabin for the week?”

“What?”

“Who? Bucky?” asked Jo.

“Don’t you see, it’s perfect!” said Hillary. “He could go up there and help Uncle Kenny out with the spring cleaning, and he’ll have a place to stay while S.H.I.E.L.D. is taking down   
Hydra.”

“So I’d go up to your uncle’s place to hide, then?” said Bucky. “Instead of staying in the streets?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, dear,” said Jo. “But how long do you think it’ll take for S.H.I.E.L.D. to finish off Hydra in this area?”

“Well, we already took down one of their bases today,” said Hillary. “We think we’re close to finding the other one. It’ll be a matter of days, depending on how heavily defended it   
is and whatnot. When is Uncle Kenny coming back?”

“Sunday night, I believe.” 

“Well, it’s your choice, Bucky,” said Hillary. “We can’t keep you around the house, because Hydra already knows you’re here and S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to protect the place. If you   
want, you can go up to Uncle Kenny’s for the week, and have a place to stay that has food and beds and a roof over your head.”

“I guess it sounds nice,” said Bucky. “But call him back and see what he thinks.”

Jo was already dialing Kenny. Kenny picked up right away. “Hello, Kenny, it’s Jo again. I have a question for you. Do you remember our friend Bucky who’s been staying at the garage? Oh, yes, that’s right, you have met him. Well, Bucky here needs to get out of town for a few days. We were just thinking we would like to have him stay with you and help you out. He’s a dab hand at the garage. He could probably do a lot of heavy lifting for you....I see. That’s right, you do have plenty of room up there. And it’ll just be you and the dog? No, I don’t think Bucky minds dogs. Yes, Ace will be good company for him. And you...Yes, Bucky is very well behaved….no, I think his only issues are PTSD and a prosthetic arm...No, you can’t really tell, he hides it most of the time. But it functions normally...All right, then. We’ll have you pick him up then, first thing tomorrow when you come for the chainsaw. I’ll talk to you then. Have a good night. Bye.” Jo hung up. She looked at Bucky and said, “Kenny says he’d love to have you.”

“Oh, all right, then,” said Bucky. “What does he need done up there?”

“He’s clearing up some weeds and dead trees in the woods around the cabin.”

“Well, it sounds a bit more labor-intensive than taking out the trash and refilling the water tank.”

“Just a bit,” Jo laughed.

“How’s the weather been up there?” asked Hillary.

“I should have asked him,” said Jo. “Payson is up in the mountains,” she explained to Bucky. “Right below the Mogollon Rim. They’ve had a little snow this winter but not much.”

“But is it likely to snow again while we’re up there?”

“I doubt it, if the weather forecast said it wasn’t going to storm up there then Kenny wouldn’t be headed up there.”

“But it’ll be colder,” said Jo. “Much colder than it is down here. But Kenny’s cabin has plenty of snug bedrooms with blankets, and a fireplace.”

“It’ll be perfect,” said Hillary. “Rats, I’m so jealous. I’d love to go up with you.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Bucky. “Just as long as the dog doesn’t give me too much trouble.”

“You remember Trey’s brother Kenny?” asked Jo. 

“Yeah, he’s been by the garage,” said Bucky. “We had to fix a such-and-such thing on his truck once.”

“I don’t think he takes his dog out in public with him, does he?” asked Hillary.

“No, not unless he’s going to the cabin,” said Jo.

“Uncle Kenny’s dog is named Ace,” said Hillary. “He’s a big great dane. Here.” She pulled up a picture on her phone to show Bucky. 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Bucky. 

“He’s a lot bigger than he looks in the picture,” said Hillary. “And he’s not a quiet dog. Well, dogs aren’t really quiet, compared to cats. Ace likes to jump around and bark and   
stuff. But Kenny’s got pretty good control over him, so if he’s giving you a hard time Kenny’ll hold him back for you.”

Jo looked at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock you guys,” she announced. “I’m going to bed. You two should probably get moving that direction as well.”

“You’re probably right,” said Hillary. “We’ve both got a long day ahead.” 

Bucky yawned and stretched. “It’s probably for the best, then.” He and Jo left the living room to get ready for bed. Hillary was the last to leave the living room, and before she left   
she gave a long glance at the piano. She had been home for a week and hadn’t touched it once.

 

Hillary hit the snooze alarm angrily when she awoke. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want Bucky to leave again. But Uncle Kenny would be there any minute, and she wanted to say goodbye. So she got up and got ready for work. She heard some faint stirrings in Cody’s bedroom while she straightened her hair and did her makeup. Her mother knocked on the door and told Bucky to get out of bed. Jo fixed oatmeal for the both of them. They ate at the bar in silence. Bucky occasionally gave her a really sad, tired look. 

He didn’t want to have to go, either.

At seven-fifteen, they heard the rumbling of Uncle Kenny’s truck outside. Trey came out of his room and went out the garage door to speak with Kenny and get him the chainsaw.   
Bucky went back to Cody’s room to pack and came out with his duffel bag loaded. His black glove was carefully stretched over his left hand, and the sleeve of his jacket was pulled down as far as possible to reach it.

Uncle Kenny came inside. He was a tall man with the same round face as Trey, but he had thick, curly gray hair and glasses and was much thinner. He wore beige-colored jeans and a red and pink plaid shirt. 

“Nice to see you again, Bucky,” he said as they shook hands in greeting. “Are you ready to go?”

“I’m ready,” said Bucky.

“Is this your bag?” asked Kenny, looking at the Cardinals duffel bag on the counter.

“Yes.”

“Your only one?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Good. Then I expect you won’t take up too much space. With Ace in the cab it’s kind of a tight squeeze for three.” Kenny laughed. 

“Thanks for doing this, brother,” said Trey.

“Anytime, man,” said Kenny. Trey and Kenny embraced. Jo and Hillary hugged him too, thanking him profusely.

“All right, Bucky, if you’ll follow me.” Kenny left the kitchen.

“Goodbye,” said Bucky, waving at the Tanners. But Trey and Jo each gave him a hug. And then Hillary hugged him last, the hardest and the longest. 

“Come back to us,” Hillary said to him.

“I will.” 

Bucky pulled away from her, and then he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed outside.

 

It was a slightly chilly morning, and Bucky could see his breath. Exhaust fumes curled around the pipes underneath Kenny’s pickup truck.   
In the cab of the truck, a dog’s head poked out the window and started barking.

“Ace, sit,” said Kenny. The dog stopped barking immediately, but looked at Bucky with its tongue lolling out.

Kenny opened the passenger-side door. The dog leaped out of the cab, and then it looked ready to jump up and climb all over Bucky, but at a command from Kenny the dog sat, but continued to look at Bucky, panting excitedly. Bucky was unsure whether to back away or remain still. Kenny scooted the passenger’s seat forward to open up the back seat of the cab. He commanded the dog to enter but did not indicate for Bucky to do the same. Instead, Kenny slid the passenger seat back into place and told Bucky to get in. Bucky put his duffel bag on the floor and then climbed up the truck and scooted himself onto the passenger seat. Kenny got into the driver’s seat and put the vehicle in gear. They pulled out of the Tanners’ driveway and made their way out of the silent neighborhood.

“So, Bucky, I’ve met you at the garage before, and Trey’s told me quite a bit about you. He seems to be rather fond of you.”

“Really, what did he say?” 

“He said you’re a great guy who’s just a little down on his luck.”

“A little. Hmph. He was being modest.”

“Oh. Your luck’s turned that bad, huh?”

“Yeah. Well--”

“You don’t have to say anything to me.”

They turned onto one of the main roads and began to drive towards the freeway heading out of town. 

Bucky felt something cold and wet on his left ear. He nearly jumped out of his seat, and he turned around and saw the dog panting happily and letting its tongue dangle onto his   
shoulder.

“That’s Ace, by the way,” said Kenny. “He’s a good dog. If you get some time when we’re up at the cabin, you can take him for walks and play with him and stuff. He’s really friendly.”

“Oh, yeah, I can tell,” Bucky said, though he meant it sarcastically.

“And Jo says that you have a prosthetic arm. Can I see it?”

Bucky glowered, but pulled down the left sleeve of his jacket enough to show the metal. Kenny glanced down at it and whistled. “Fancy schmancy! Does it cover your whole arm?”

“Yeah. And my shoulder, too.”

“My, my. You must have quite a story to go with it.”

“I do...but I don’t,” said Bucky.

“Oh, I see. I won’t ask you about it. I can respect a man’s privacy.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded.

“You’re not a man of many words. That’s fine. As long as you can work hard for me, then it won’t be a bother having you around. We’ve got lots of cleaning up to do around that   
cabin. My wife Barbara is staying home this week. She has to work, and she’ll be babysitting the grandkids when she’s off on Friday. So we’ll have the cabin to ourselves. The weather should be nice today and tomorrow. Friday we’re expecting a bit of a snowstorm, but it won’t be too bad. We’ll just get a hot, roaring fire going for ya. And then if you want there’s movies and a DVD player and some books up there, if you like to read. I’ll keep you entertained.”

“Cool.” 

They got onto the freeway and then took a side road that lead to a highway that wound off into the distance past Red Mountain. He watched out the windows as the Valley and the life he had started getting used to disappeared behind him. He could only hope it was temporary.


	8. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Desperate Hour

Hillary arrived at work at nine. Everyone was at the office by nine-thirty, and she took a break from continuing to scan the recovered Hydra documents to look at the surveillance shots taken by Agent Swill’s drone.

Swill and Coulson had gone out to Scottsdale the previous evening and from a remote location flown the drone over the business complex where Resser Fruits was located. There was video as well as several still photos, all in infrared and x-ray.

“The office is located in this building here,” said Swill, pointing at the computer screen. “It’s on the second floor. It doesn’t look very well defended, however. Not a lot of weaponized heat signatures coming off of it. But the parking garage, however, is heavily defended.” He moved his computer mouse to show them. The very thin purple markings in the photo indicated that the parking garage was laced with hidden cameras and microphones. There was a red box around the elevator shaft which meant that someone had rigged an emergency self-destruct around it. There were markings that indicated that there were explosive charges scattered at strategic points around the elevator shaft and, oddly enough, under it.

“So there’s something living in the basement,” said Agent Parsons.

“Correct,” said Swill. “This blue bar right here, that’s an air conditioning unit. You can’t live anywhere in Phoenix without air conditioning.”

“Too right,” said Marcie. 

“Are the explosives automatic or controlled?”

“They’re controlled,” said Swill. “See this little red square right here in the office building? Anyone can have access from the control panel in there. They’re remote controlled. And whoever is controlling them will also have access to surveillance.”

“How about in the basement?” asked Hillary.

“The drone’s cameras couldn’t see through it, either they can’t see underground or it’s protected by something.”

“Darn it,” Hillary muttered.

“Well, somebody doesn’t want to be found out,” said Agent Kearns.

“Well, Coulson, what’s your verdict?” asked Swill.

“This shows all the typical earmarks of a hidden Hydra base,” said Coulson. “Before they collapsed within S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra would have secret locations away from S.H.I.E.L.D.   
facilities when they needed to do something top-secret. This is sort of built along those lines. The trouble is I’ve never seen one so well protected. The old Hydra ops used to   
take it for granted that they weren’t going to get caught. But these guys…” Coulson shook his head.

“It’s incredible,” said Parsons. “Hydra never had any kind of a base out here before, they just operated out of the back of the Wilmer and Phillips law office. And I don’t   
understand how they’ve got enough money to pay for defending their smaller bases now. It’s not even been a year since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

“They have other allies,” said Coulson. “People within government and military organizations would be happy to steal this stuff for them. And there’s always gangs and the mafia.   
The Hydra base we found in San Antonio last spring had ties to the Mexican Mafia.”

“If you smell a rat here,” said Kearns, “it’s probably the Free Range Party.”

“Undoubtedly,” said Swill.

“But how many people do you think are working out of there?” asked Mitch. “It’s probably not just Wilmer and Philips that are in there.”

“No, if they’ve gone to that much trouble, there are probably a lot of them,” said Coulson. “I want all of you back to work. Start combing the records for names. I need suspects.”   
Coulson went back to Parsons’ office to make a phone call.

Everyone returned to their desks. Hillary was nowhere near finished with scanning the documents they had found in Phoenix yesterday but she went back through what she had   
already done to see if she could find some names for her coworkers to look up. 

At about eleven in the morning, Coulson came by to check on her progress with the scans and to talk over what it could mean. 

“But what do you think, boss?” asked Hillary. “Do you think we could take out that new Hydra base?”

“I’m not sure I want to rule on anything just yet,” said Coulson. “We don’t know what’s in that basement yet. And we don’t know how many people they’ve got in there.”

“And do you have any idea how soon we will know? Having Hydra sitting around here...it’s like a land mine. It’s only a matter of time until somebody steps on it.”

“I don’t like it either, but--”

Then Agent Clay spoke up.

“Sir, there’s something I think you should see.” Coulson walked around to Clay’s cubicle and Hillary got up to follow him. 

“What is it?” asked Coulson. 

“Sir, I’ve intercepted a message from an email address on our watch list. It was sent last night and I’ve only just decoded it.”

“How was it encoded?”

“It was in Code C. That’s the German numeric code that Hydra sometimes uses.”

Agent Clay had a transcript of the decoded message on his screen:

BASE A COMPROMISED. SHARK.

Coulson gave a quiet exclamation of shock. 

“Base A? What’s Base A?” asked Hillary.

“I’ll bet you it’s the base we raided yesterday,” said Coulson. “When was it sent?”

“Yesterday evening about seven. But I just found another encoded email that was sent this morning. The decryption on that is running as we speak.”

Coulson called over Agent Parsons and Mitch. Parsons swore. “But who’s sending these?”

“The first one is clearly from Carl Wilmer, Sr.,” said Hillary. “He could have sent it as soon as he got home from the police station yesterday. Shark is probably a codename.”

“I want an arrest warrant out for him at once,” said Parsons.

“Not so fast, Parsons. He may be expecting us,” said Coulson.

“And who was it sent to?” asked Mitch.

“Let me see,” Agent Clay muttered. “The decription says wilsonwhite@resserfruitsinc.com.”

“Well, I think we’ve found our mole,” said Hillary. 

“It’s gotta be a pseudonym,” said Mitch. 

“Go see what we have on that, Mitch,” said Coulson. “I think Agent Johnson’s working on it.” 

“Got it.” Mitch walked over to Marcie’s cubicle.

“Aaaaaand decryption is finished,” Agent Clay announced. “It says, ‘Base B is compromised. S.H.I.E.L.D. drone detected in airspace…” he trailed off.

Hillary finished reading the rest.

PHOENIX CTR OF OPERATIONS MUST REMAIN INTACT. DEFEND AT ALL COSTS. CALL LAMBDA FOR REINFORCEMENTS. ASSET MATERIALS TO ARRIVE FRIDAY. CYCLONE.

“Oh no,” she muttered.

“Asset, what asset?” asked Agent Clay.

“The Winter Soldier, you numbskull,” said Parsons. 

Hillary felt like she was going to be sick.

“Did they find him?” Coulson asked Clay.

“It...doesn’t sound like it.”

“But they might think they’re getting close,” said Parsons. He swore. “I’m sorry I keep swearing, Tanner.”

“It’s all right,” said Hillary. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“But was that second email from the same person?” Coulson inquired.

“No, it was codename ‘Cyclone,’” said Clay. “It was the same email address, though. And it was sent to Wilson White as well.”

Coulson cursed under his breath. He folded his arms tightly.

Hillary looked at him, waiting for him to respond. Then he sprang into action. “Parsons, I want you and Kearns watching for the Asset materials to arrive. Call the state customs   
and highway patrol. I’ll send you a link to the Winter Soldier file.”

“Got it,” said Parsons, returning to his office.

“Agent Swill?”

Swill looked up from his cubicle. “Yes, sir?”

“I want you to double-check our files on Hydra. Try to figure out who Lambda is.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll bet Lambda’s probably another base where they’re hiding reinforcements,” said Hillary.

“And I’ll bet unless we take out the base in Scottsdale before they get here, we’re screwed,” said Coulson. 

“Well how are we going to do that, boss?” asked Hillary. “They’ve already got the base booby-trapped. They recognized our drone. How are we going to get in there?”

“I guess that does it, then,” said Coulson. “We’re calling the Avengers.”

“What? The Avengers?”

“Yes, the Avengers,” said Coulson. “Captain Rogers will want to know about this.”

“About Hydra or about the Asset?”

“We’ll have to worry about the Asset later, I’m afraid,” said Coulson. “If Hydra is in a position to act, we need to stop them.”

 

Coulson texted Steve Rogers and Tony Stark right away. Neither of them had responded by the time Hillary went on her lunch break. She sat alone in the break room and ate her sandwich slowly. She was reluctant to be eating period.

She had to brace herself. She hadn’t spoken with Steve since before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. They had kept in contact through Facebook but without really having a conversation.

The worst part of it all was the fact that her family was taking care of Bucky, and Steve didn’t have any idea. It was going to be difficult to skype with him without bursting to tell   
him everything. But Bucky wasn’t ready to be found. And he didn’t want Hillary to say anything. She had promised him. Hillary wanted to break that promise so badly it hurt, but   
she knew it would be worse to hurt Bucky’s feelings. 

Mitch went on lunch break right before Hillary ended hers. He came into the break room and got his lunch out of the cupboard, and when he put his macaroni in the microwave he sat down at the table.

“How’s it going, Hillary?”

Hillary only stared at Mitch blankly. Mitch smiled at her to try and encourage her to talk. She looked away. She wanted to burst out crying right then, but she knew she couldn’t. 

She finally just got up and left the break room.

Coulson was on one of the office computers.

“Did they text you back?” asked Hillary.

“No,” said Coulson. “No one has texted me back yet. They’re probably busy.”

“Well, let’s hope they’re not too busy.” 

But in half an hour, Coulson got a text back. 

“It’s Steve,” he said. “He says he wants to skype with us in two hours.”

“Great,” said Hillary, nodding.

The next two hours went by so slowly. Hillary kept taking water breaks and going to the restroom to occupy herself. When she was too distracted to work, she was bracing   
herself. 

At a quarter to four, Coulson got a message saying it was time. Skype was set up in the meeting room on the big screen, and present were Hillary, Coulson, and Agent Parsons.

Coulson clicked open the screen and backed away. On the other end was Steve Rogers, dressed in his new Avengers uniform, as well as Tony Stark, who wore a t-shirt and jeans, Clint Barton, who was in a black tank top, and Natasha Romanoff, also in uniform. The background was the interior of an airplane, presumably the Avengers’ Quinjet.

“Hello, Avengers!” said Coulson. He was the happiest he had been all day.

“Coulson!” exclaimed Barton.

“Phil, how are you?” said Stark.

“Hi there,” said Romanoff.

“Afternoon, Director. How are you?” said Steve.

“Doing great, doing great,” said Coulson. “So where are you guys?”

“We are in the Virgin Islands,” said Steve. “Nice weather, but a lot of crazy stuff going on. What’s happening in Phoenix?”

“Well, a lot of bad stuff, I’m afraid. You remember Agent Hillary Tanner, correct?”

“That’s right, I do,” said Steve. “Hillary, how are ya?”

“Doing great,” she said, giving him a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the lie in her eyes.

“And this is agent Douglas Parsons, the director of the Tempe office of S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Captain America, pleasure to meet ya,” said Parsons. 

“Likewise,” said Steve. “So what’s the situation?”

Coulson began to fill in Steve on the progress of their investigation, starting with the attempted attack on Hillary. Stark, Barton, and Romanoff were easily shocked, but Steve was dismayed the most. 

“What were they doing at your house, Hillary?” 

“I don’t know,” said Hillary. “I think they were trying to get information from me.”

“That’s the best we can come up with so far,” said Coulson. Coulson filled them in on the investigation into the dead Hydra agent, the Hydra base in Phoenix, and Carl Wilmer, Sr.   
Hillary and Parsons filled in details where necessary. 

“We sent a drone to scout out the location for their other base in Scottsdale,” said Coulson. “It turns out, however, that they detected our drone. We intercepted an email saying   
that they were planning to defend the base at all costs. That’s when we decided to call you.” 

“Uh-huh,” said Stark. “Well, it sounds like you guys have your hands full.”

“We’d really love to help you out,” said Steve. “Except this Hydra base that we’re tackling right now, it’s not going so well. They set up defenses around their perimeter--strong   
walls and aerial artillery. Thor and Tony and Hulk aren’t getting anywhere close. It might be a couple more days before we can get through. It’s not that our needs are more urgent than yours--in fact yours might be more pressing.”

“There’s no reason we shouldn’t help them out, Rogers,” said Tony. “They don’t have the tech or the training to get through those kinds of defenses. Hydra has really one-upped them.”

“I agree,” said Barton. “Well, I’d like to go. Natasha, you wanna come with me?”

“Sure,” Romanoff shrugged. “I’ll come. Anyone else interested in going to Phoenix?”

“No, I don’t think we can send all of you,” said Steve. “But you and Barton have the most experience working with S.H.I.E.L.D.. I think you two would be perfect for this.”

“We’ll do it then,” said Romanoff. 

“How soon can we expect you?” asked Coulson.

“Well, Tony, would you mind if we took the QuinJet?” asked Barton.

“Gee, I dunno,” said Stark. “I guess so.”

“We can get a ground base set up in no time,” said Steve. “We can just take out from here whatever we need. And Tony, you think you could call up Rhodey to see if he could give   
us a hand while they’re gone?”

“I sure could,” said Stark.

“It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, then, to get the QuinJet ready?” asked Barton.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t,” said Romanoff.

“All right,” Barton said, looking into the webcam. “We will leave as soon as we’re ready, Coulson. I’ll text you. And Natasha and I should be there tomorrow morning at L___ Air   
Force Base.”

“Got it,” said Coulson.

“We’ll see you then,” said Hillary.

“And Hillary, when I get back from this mission, you should message me or something,” said Steve. “We haven’t talked in a while.”

“Yeah, we haven’t,” said Hillary.

They said their goodbyes and ended the skype call.

“Well, I feel better,” said Coulson.

So did Hillary, though she didn’t say it.

 

The saguaros faded away to desert scrub and steep mountains, and then as they entered the town of Payson the first conifers of a forest emerged. It was strange to be in civilization again, after the long hour and a half of driving up and down the winding roads of the desert. Kenny hadn’t talked much during the drive, except to point out some of the landmarks along the way. Ace, the dog, had mostly slept in the back of the cab, but when he felt the truck slowing down he perked his head up again and Bucky could hear his loud panting. 

“There’s a Wal-Mart up here a ways,” said Kenny. “I was thinking we could stop there for something to eat, and to stock up on groceries for the next few days. You can stay here in the car with Ace if you’d like.”

“No, it’s fine, I could use a stretch,” said Bucky. 

Payson was a medium-sized town surrounded by forested mountains. Bucky had been down in the East Valley so long he had nearly forgotten what a normal tree looked like. But the traffic was bumper-to-bumper along the town’s long main street. Bucky watched Kenny’s mouth press into a thin line as he moved slowly down the road behind a semi truck and in front of a minivan. 

After about fifteen minutes in Payson, they came to the turnoff for the Walmart parking lot. Kenny drove up close to the front and miraculously found an empty parking spot. He parked the truck, and he and Bucky got out. Kenny pulled back the driver’s seat so Ace could get out for a minute. Ace wandered in circles near the truck, stretching his legs behind him.

The air up here was definitely cooler, Bucky noticed. There was also a faint scent of pine trees and sap mingled with that of exhaust fumes from the vehicles everywhere.   
Ace wandered up to Bucky and looked up at him eagerly. Standing up, Ace was half as tall as Bucky. He was covered with black fur and had white patches on his paws and face, and floppy black ears. Bucky held back but did not move away. Most of the dogs he had been around in the past year had only ever barked and growled at him. Ace seemed to want to be friendly with him, but would the dog try to be too friendly? 

“Ace, get back in,” said Kenny. Ace yawned and got back into the truck. Kenny rolled down the windows to let in some air before closing the door. 

“Trey told me you were kind of shy,” said Kenny as they walked towards the store entrance.

“Well, it’s less shy and more just uncomfortable around people I don’t know.”

“Right. Well, it’s rush hour and this place gets a little busy. Just to warn you.”

“I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t the crowds he was worried about.

Once inside of Wal-Mart they went to the deli. Kenny ordered chicken strips and potato wedge fries for both of them. The food smelled really good from inside the bag and Bucky   
wanted to eat it right away, but Kenny put it in the shopping cart and headed up to the refrigerated foods section. 

While they had been at the deli, Bucky had noticed a man lingering off to one side. The man wore dark clothing and a baseball cap and appeared to be interested in--or was pretending to be interested in--the selection of meats and cheeses. However, at a second glance Bucky saw the man looking up at him and then he looked away. 

It could have been anyone, he told himself, but like it or not he had an uncomfortable feeling about this guy. But he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and walked away.  
But as Kenny moved along and Bucky followed him at a distance, he glanced over his shoulder. The strange man was following them. He saw Bucky’s glance and then looked at an end display of macaroni in crazy shapes. 

Bucky had half a mind to walk up to the man and tell him to mind his own business, but he turned away as Kenny’s shopping cart rolled further up to the sausage fridge. 

“If you see anything that looks good, let me know,” Kenny said to him.

“Sure.” Bucky looked up again. The man was walking up the aisle on the far side. Bucky looked at him, hoping the man would turn off to one side, but instead he kept walking their direction. And then he looked at Bucky and smiled faintly.

Something stirred in Bucky’s mind. Something about that smile really bothered him. The man seemed familiar…

He could see the flashback trying to burst to the forefront of his mind, but he pushed it down. He turned back to Kenny and stood close to the cart.

If only you’d just stop looking at him, maybe he’d go away, he told himself. But no, the man wasn’t going to just leave him alone. The man had hurt him before. He would hurt him again--and he would hurt Hillary’s uncle, too, if he got the chance. 

“Kenny,” said Bucky, walking up close to Kenny.

“Yes?”

“I’m feeling I need to go back to the car.”

“Okay, then. The windows are down, so if you reach inside to the door you should be able to unlock it. See you there.” Kenny nodded and went back to comparing prices of   
chicken breasts. Bucky turned and started walking quickly down the condiments aisle. The man who had been watching him started walking towards him. Bucky heard footsteps   
following him on the linoleum floor. When he glanced back and saw the man gaining on him, he glared. The man only smiled. Bucky felt his insides churning with rage.

He was not even out of the aisle when he heard the man speaking.

“Excuse me?”

He was only a few feet behind him.

Bucky turned around. 

“Yes?” Bucky said calmly, trying to keep his face expressionless.

“Do you have a minute? I’m sorry if I’m interrupting your shopping or anything -- “

“No, it’s okay.”

“ -- Yes, but could we talk for a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” said Bucky. “Could we step outside to talk? Do you mind?”

The man shook his head and smiled even more broadly. “Not at all.”

The man stepped up beside Bucky. He didn’t bother making more conversation as they walked. Bucky glared at him sideways when he got the chance. He was pretty sure from   
the way the man was holding his jacket that there was a concealed weapon inside of it. Bucky had his strength, but other than that he was unarmed. 

They bumped into a customer who was looking at a bin of plush pillows and said “Excuse me,” but then when Bucky looked up at the man he saw him glancing up at another person standing off to one side. This second man had combed hair and a full goatee and an earring. He nodded at the first man. A few seconds later, Bucky glanced behind him and saw the second man following them. He was probably also armed. He didn’t smile like the first man had, in fact he avoided Bucky’s gaze completely. 

If Bucky had any money with him, he would have been prepared to bet that there were more with these two men.

Bucky went deliberately to the side of the store opposite from where Kenny had parked. The man at his side didn’t say anything. They exited the store, with the second man trailing closely behind him. In the vending area at the store exit Bucky saw the first man make eye contact with a dark-featured woman with thick eyebrows. Bucky thought he heard a click and a squeak like a radio.

Out in the fresh air, the faint scent of pine trees hit his nostrils. He walked away to one side of the store entrance. The man’s friends would be joining them at any minute, so he had better get this started right away.

He turned to face the man.

“How can I help you?” 

“I understand you have been on your own for quite some time,” said the man genially. “Do you think you’d like to come back with us?”

“No, I’m doing just fine, thanks,” said Bucky.

“Are you sure?” said the man, his smile growing ever broader. Bucky turned around and saw a fourth person walking up behind the man with a raised gun. “Because it seems to   
me like you’re not fitting in very well in the world.”

“I can manage,” said Bucky, facing the man again. “Now get going.”

“No, you need to come with me.”

Bucky threw a punch at the man. The man ducked, but then Bucky gave the man a kick to the groin. The man groaned and rolled over, drawing his gun from the inside of his   
jacket. Then behind him he heard a loud CRACK. A bullet rushed past his ear. Bucky turned around and saw the woman he had seen in the store entrance. He ran to her and yanked the gun out of her grasp. He hit her on the head, and she fell onto the sidewalk, bleeding. 

The first man shot at him. Bucky ducked to one side just in time. Then the fourth man opened fire. Bucky dropped and rolled. He kicked the first man to one side, knocking the pistol out of his hand. Then he ran and confronted the fourth man, who had taken the woman’s gun. The fourth man was firing at him at point-blank range. Bucky moved to one side and then took the gun. The man fell over, bleeding from his middle. 

The second man came running out of the store entrance drawing a pistol. Bucky finished him with one shot.

Then he turned around and saw the first man getting up. Bucky threw the gun away and they fought hand-to-hand. Finally Bucky gave the man a punch on the jaw that knocked him over and he fell on top of the woman. 

Bucky stood for a moment, looking at what he had done. Four bodies, either unconscious or dead. Blood splattered on the sidewalk. He recalled having heard screaming around him when he had been fighting. He looked up and saw people watching him from behind the safety of their cars and shopping carts. 

He saw the second man, the one with the dark hair, stirring faintly next to the safety barrier by the door. The man’s shirt was partway unbuttoned and he could see a tattoo on his chest: a skull with tentacles coming out of it.

“Cut off one head…” the man said feebly. “Two more...will…”

Bucky kicked him in the face, cutting the recitation short. 

Monster, was the word that came to mind. Monster. Monster. Monster.

He walked across the parking lot, cutting through the clusters of parked cars so nobody could see him. It would only be a matter of time before the police came over. If he stayed here too long waiting for Kenny, or went back inside, he would be trapped. 

Ace was still waiting inside of the truck cab, but he was whining. 

“It’s okay, boy,” said Bucky. “It’s okay. Kenny will be back out here in a minute. I hope.” He couldn’t see the opposite store entrance from where Kenny had parked. He couldn’t tell if the store workers had noticed or if the other customers were gathering. He wished he had his phone so he could call Kenny, but then he remembered that he didn’t have Kenny’s number. So he cursed himself mentally and waited.

The next few minutes seemed to drag by very slowly. Every time Bucky heard the jingling of a store cart he would move to the side of the truck and watch from where he could see but not be seen. The most tense moment was when the owner of the minivan parked behind them came and unloaded her groceries. Bucky had to crawl under the truck to stay out of sight. Only when she had driven away did he crawl back out. The next shopping cart that came, thankfully, was Kenny’s. Bucky came out from the side of the truck.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Bucky as he emerged.

Kenny jumped a little. “Oh, you scared me, son. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I heard something inside there about a shooting. Everything all right?”

“Yeah I just...had a close call, was all.” 

“Well, help me to load up and we’ll get out of here.”

Bucky set to unloading the grocery cart’s contents into the bed of the truck. There were two gallons of milk, a bag of dog food, a carton of eggs, sausage, frozen vegetables, cheese, crackers, chips, dip, hot dogs, bread, sandwich meat, marshmallows, chocolate bars, hot chocolate mix, and a jar of pickles. There was also a package of paper towels and toilet paper, a case of light bulbs, and a tank of gasoline. They got into the truck cab. Kenny noticed that Ace seemed upset about something and gave him a good scratch behind the ears to cheer him up. Bucky wished it was just as easy to restore his own spirits. They pulled out of the parking lot and drove back onto the street just as a pair of police vehicles drove by them, sirens blaring. On the way down the main street they also saw an ambulance go by. Bucky was beyond grateful that they had managed to get out of there. 

 

The incident at the Payson Walmart made the news but the Tempe S.H.I.E.L.D. office was so preoccupied at the time that they never paid much attention to it.

Hillary worked hard all day, trying to finish inputting the last of the evidence gathered from the abandoned Hydra base. Then she helped her teammates to compile a list of suspects and narrow it down. Michael Lemicks was still on the run, and the Arizona Free Range Party had closed its offices until further notice. The SWAT team at the abandoned Hydra base had not seen or heard anything suspicious. Parsons called the Sun City West police to check on Carl Wilmer Sr. but never heard back. They made hotel reservations for Barton and Romanoff at the same hotel where Mitch and Coulson were staying. And then Hillary was allowed to go home early. She felt so tired and ill that she wondered if she was completely over her cold. 

She took a long, cold shower and had dinner with her parents, and she told them that the Hydra base in Scottsdale was bracing for S.H.I.E.L.D. to attack and that Coulson had invited two of the Avengers. 

After dinner they were so absorbed talking about everything that had happened that they didn’t bother putting away the dishes for a while.

The subject did come back around to Bucky after a minute.

“So does Coulson know anything about him?” asked Jo. “You gave him his pseudonym but -- “

“I think if Coulson had figured out anything by now he would have said something to me about it.” She looked down at her empty plate. “Is there cell phone service at the cabin,   
Dad?”

“I’m not sure, Kenny didn’t say,” said Trey. “I should probably ask.

“Well, probably just as well if there isn’t, so I’m not tempted to call him up.”

“But it wouldn’t be such a good thing, though, if there was an emergency,” said Jo.

“Well, yeah,” said Hillary. “It’s not Coulson figuring out anything I’m worried about as much as Hydra. But I wonder, is Payson going to be far enough? Are they going to figure   
out that he’s gone?”

“They probably will, but the thing is they won’t figure out where,” said Trey.

“But how long will he have to stay up there?” said Jo. “If Kenny’s is only going to be up there for the week, that doesn’t give S.H.I.E.L.D. much time to figure out what Hydra is up to.”

“Thank you for mentioning that, Mom, for the tenth time tonight,” said Hillary.

“You’re really feeling the pressure,” Trey observed.

“Ha. Pressure. I’ve been under worse pressure. S.H.I.E.L.D. school. College. The ACT. All cakewalks, compared to this. But, yeah, that is something we have to worry about, if it takes longer to take care of things than planned. Do we know any other people who have cabins in the upcountry, Payson, Heber, Pinetop? Places like that?”

“Or maybe I could call up one of my friends in Winslow or Snowflake,” said Trey.

“We might could call them up, as a last resort,” said Hillary. “They’d never find him up there.” She stared at her plate as something dawned on her. “But we can’t just ask people to keep babysitting him for us. And you know what, it’s not going to be very fair to him, if we keep moving him around and hiding him. We’d be no better than Hydra, if we did that.”

“That’s true,” said Jo. “What if maybe...what if it comes to the point where we can’t just send him away? That he has to leave, permanently?”

“He could go back to Denver,” said Hillary. “It’s almost the end of winter up there, he’d be just fine--wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” said Trey. “I’m not sure that he’s ready for that.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for Captain America to come and find him,” said Jo.

“Mom, I don’t think he’s ready for that either. I don’t think there’s an easy solution to any of this.”


	9. Hope from the Skies

It was only a half an hour drive up the state highway into the forested mountains to a dirt turnoff near a stream labeled Coburn Creek. Steep hills rose sharply from either side of the road. There were piles of dirty snow next to the road where they had been shoveled aside unceremoniously earlier that winter. Kenny took a left turn down another dirt road. Bucky could see the trees thinning out here and there, and on the edges of the narrow valleys with fenced meadows he saw houses covered with wooden logs, some with large windows or others with stone chimneys. They had to pull over to the side once to let another car pass, a suburban, but then they got back on to the dirt road without further incident. Bucky was wondering how much further they had to go when Kenny drove onto a dirt path that was clearly a driveway. He got out to open a gate, pulled through, and then closed it. Bucky was surprised he hadn’t even asked if he could get the gate for him. 

The driveway rolled in front of them down the side of the hill. The cabin they arrived at was large, two-story with a large porch running around the sides. The first thing Kenny did when he got out was pull his seat forward. Ace leaped out of the cab and barked at some birds that were idling on the side of the hill.

They took the groceries in first. Kenny took Bucky around the side of the cabin to a back door leading into a kitchen. The kitchen was amply furnished, with an island counter in the center and a large sink. When they had put away the groceries, they went back to the truck for their personal effects. Bucky only had his duffel bag so he also took in a toolbox that belonged to Kenny. Kenny had him leave it in the living room and led him upstairs. There were two bathrooms and six bedrooms upstairs, Kenny said, as well as another bath and two large bedrooms and a rec room downstairs. Kenny took a large room with a king-sized bed on a frame of artificial logs. Bucky found a room that had a single bed, a closet, a dresser, and a nightstand. The curtains and bedding were red and blue, and the carpet was white.

“This cabin belongs to my wife’s family,” said Kenny. “We keep it for family reunions, retreats and such. You don’t have to stay in this room.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky lied. The coloration screamed Captain America to him, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to be close to his host.

“Well, you can change into something to work in,” said Kenny. “I’m going to get started outside as soon as I’m unpacked.” Kenny went into his room.

A half an hour later, Kenny was outside with the chainsaw. Bucky was with him, wearing his baseball cap and a hot and oversized ASU sweater. There was a good amount of growth of weeds and small trees from the previous summer growing up around the cabin, now all dead from the winter chill. Kenny did most of the cutting. Bucky collected the cut wood into piles. They worked until dusk, taking breaks inside the cabin to drink from tall glasses of water. They didn’t talk much as they worked. Ace would run around them, yipping at whatever animals were disturbed by their cutting and working. 

Winter twilight in the mountains of central Arizona is a deep red, and in winter the chill creeps into the shoes and bites the toes. Bucky could see his breath as he carried the last of the brush into a pile. They would leave the hauling away of the piles for the next day.

They went inside. Ace came in with them and curled up on the floor. Though they knew they would only get hot and sweaty from working again the next day they went ahead and showered before going to bed. Kenny made them a dinner of a sausage and vegetable mix he called hash browns. It was very filling and warming after the cold work outside.   
Kenny got a pair of dog dishes out from a cupboard and filled one with water and the other with a heaping pile of dog food. Ace ate heartily, his teeth cracking on the meal.

Bucky looked around the living room. It was two storeys with a balcony that came off the second floor. On one side was a stone fireplace with a large mantlepiece. There were bookcases filled with movies and books and a curio cabinet of china dolls. There was an upright piano covered with a few dog-eared songbooks of Disney and Broadway music.   
And there were lots of family photos. Kenny took a moment to show Bucky a few of them. Most of the photos were of Kenny’s wife Barbara and her family. But there were a few of Kenny’s immediate family and then even some of his extended family. Bucky nearly jumped when he saw a framed portrait of a girl he thought he recognized.

“Is this Hillary?” he asked, picking up the picture frame.

“It is indeed,” said Kenny. “This was her school picture from when she was in seventh grade, I think.”

“Wow,” said Bucky quietly. Hillary had been a pretty girl even when she was a teenager, though she wore glasses and had bangs. Her face was not quite as narrow as it was now,   
and she had braces in this photo.

Ace followed them upstairs when they went to bed about nine thirty. Bucky last saw him in Kenny’s room lying on a rug on the floor.

Bucky didn’t wear pajamas of any sort, but slept in the ASU t-shirt and ragged jeans he had worn to dinner. Kenny had turned the heater up and so the room was fairly warm. But   
it was pitch black when Bucky turned out the bedroom light and shut the door. The window outside the curtains showed no lights from other houses. It was like he and Kenny   
were the only people in the world.

Isolation. Peace and quiet. That was what he’d wanted all these months, wasn’t it?

But when he’d closed his eyes and fallen asleep, the nightmares came, as they nearly always did. He had to relive the scene in front of Walmart ten times through in slow motion,   
everything pale and colorless except for the blood, everything silent except for the screaming. And then that scene faded into the atrocities he had committed as the Winter   
Soldier. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from living through those scenes in his mind. Every night he tried to stop it, and he couldn’t. And then he would see Mr.   
Pierce and his other former handlers smiling down at him--the man he had met in Wal-Mart was there. He saw Doctor Zola and heard his voice, “Did you really think you could   
escape us?” And he saw the Hydra spy who had come to Hillary’s house. Over and over again, from multiple people, he heard the words, Cut off one head, two more will take its place...cut off one head...two more will take its place.

And then he heard a scratching noise. He thought at first it was in the dream. But then he rolled over and opened his eyes to the pitch darkness. It wasn’t coming from behind him, from the window, but in front of him, from the door. And then he heard a familiar whining noise.

He got out of bed and opened the door.

Ace gave a squeak of affection. He stuck his muzzle up to Bucky’s hand that had been raised in surprise and licked it.

“Hey, what’s up, Ace?” asked Bucky groggily. Bucky knelt down and rubbed Ace around the neck and ears. He saw that Kenny’s bedroom door was open. Ace tried to stick his wet   
nose and tongue up to Bucky’s face.

“Hey, stop that,” said Bucky, backing off and standing up. “Go back to bed, now.”

Ace whimpered and looked up at Bucky. Bucky guessed that the dog had heard him yelling in his sleep. “I’m sorry, mutt. I can’t help the nightmares.”

Ace gave a final whine and turned around, tail between his legs. When he had disappeared back into Kenny’s room, Bucky closed the door.

Bucky went to the bathroom and then washed his face. His skin was wet and sticky--he had awoken from the nightmare covered with sweat. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that the   
cold water washed away some of the fear and the pain.

He shook the excess water off his hand. He’d gotten almost too used to having a metal arm. It felt different but he almost didn’t notice anymore. 

 

Hillary had a PTSD nightmare Wednesday night as well. She woke from it at five in the morning and did not go back to bed. Rereading a favorite childhood novel for a little bit helped ease her mind.

At seven o’clock she got a text from Coulson.

Hey, Hillary, if you’re awake, I want you to come meet me and Mitch at the office at eight thirty. Barton and Romanoff are landing at the Air Force Base at nine and we’re going out to meet them.

Getting back to work sounded like what she needed. She got ready for the day and cooked herself a pair of pop tarts. She was at the Tempe office at eight twenty-five. Mitch and Coulson were waiting outside in the parking lot by their rental car. Hillary got in with them, and they drove out to L___ Air Force Base.

“So how well do you know the Avengers, Hillary?” asked Mitch eagerly.

“Aside from Rogers, not that well at all,” said Hillary. “Barton and Romanoff worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past, but I never got the chance to work with them. They didn’t give a time of day to the rookies...well, except once with Hawkeye. That was fun.”

“Well, they did work with Emily Bridger on a number of occasions. But she was a supernatural asset,” said Coulson.

“So they’ve pretty much quit S.H.I.E.L.D., then?” asked Mitch.

“No. Natasha and Steve are both still on our payroll but they are exempt from formal assignments. Barton’s taking a leave of absence to help the Avengers, but he’s staying on   
standby for S.H.I.E.L.D. duty. We just make sure not to call him in unless we really need him.”

“Like today,” said Hillary.

“Sweet,” said Mitch. “So Clint is the archer guy, Hawkeye? And Natasha, she’s the Black Widow. You go back a ways with the two of them, right, Coulson?”

“Yes, I do,” said Coulson. “I’ve known Barton as long as he’s worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.. He was sent to kill Natasha, back in the day when she was an assassin for the Russians. But   
he made a different call.”

“No way,” said Mitch.

“I heard it was because he loved her,” said Hillary.

Coulson laughed. “No, it was something quite different, I can tell you.”

“Oh, so they’re not really dating?”

“I actually can’t tell you. That’s classified.” 

“But I thought they were?” asked Hillary.

“Everyone thinks they are, but anyone who mentions that to Natasha’s face gets put on her kill list.”

“Ah. I won’t say anything then.”

“That’s pretty intense,” said Mitch.

“Well, isn’t that how you would feel?” said Coulson.

Hillary laughed. “I know the feeling. But don’t worry, Mitch. They won’t bite. They’re friends with Steve, Steve’s a friend of mine, and they’re here to help us out.”

They entered the Air Force base through a back entrance and then drove around to a small, little-used runway that had its own small air traffic control tower. Hillary had never been in an air traffic control tower, and of course neither had Mitch, and they both had a minute to look professional while trying hard not to gawk as Coulson spoke with the controllers. He made a phone call to their friends who were incoming. When he hung up, he said, “They’ll be here in about half an hour.”

It wasn’t nearly as cool as having all six of the original Avengers coming, but the legendary Hawkeye and Black Widow would have been amazing on their own had they not even been associated with the others. 

Hillary had to keep taking deep breaths to calm herself down and tried to remember the time she’d worked with Barton. I have nothing to hide, she told herself. I have nothing to hide.

They went out to the tarmac and waited outside for the last ten minutes. Coulson had his sunglasses on and looked like a pro as usual. Hillary put on her sunglasses and figured she probably looked like a celebrity on an off day. Mitch didn’t have any sunglasses and squinted into the east where they sky was the brightest and at any moment…

It was a busy air base. There were lots of planes coming and going, and not to mention there was still Sky Harbor in the distance that had lots of its own air traffic. Any one of those dots could be the QuinJet, and still it did not appear.

The half- hour dragged by, and then another ten full minutes. Then one of the approaching planes took on an interesting shape. It was wider than most in the back but still had a narrow nose. It was painted all black, and Hillary thought she could detect some kind of a symbol on the side…

“That’s gotta be them,” said Coulson. Mitch smiled eagerly at Hillary. Hillary just wanted to be out of the bright sunshine.

The QuinJet circled slowly over the air force base and then hit the runway off in the distance. It taxied towards them and parked a few hundred feet away. The engines slowly turned down. A bay door opened at the back of the plane, and they walked towards it.

Two people came out of the back. Hillary had met Clint Barton before multiple times and knew his face. Natasha Romanoff she knew from the pictures in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s archives. They both carried suitcases and wore very loose, comfortable clothing for travel rather than their tight battle suits. Romanoff wore a pair of loose jeans and a collared, unbuttoned shirt over a tank-top, and her chin-length red hair was loose. Barton wore a red t-shirt with the Hard Rock Cafe logo printed on it and a pair of sunglasses to rival Coulson’s.

Coulson was the first to approach them. 

“Director Coulson, how are ya?” asked Barton.

“Doing fine, thanks,” said Coulson. “How’s Avenging going?”

“It’s going good. Could be a little slower, I guess.”

“I’m actually really surprised we’re making as much headway clearing out Hydra as we’ve been,” said Romanoff.

“You remember Agent Tanner?” said Coulson, indicating Hillary.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced, actually,” said Romanoff.

“I’m Hillary Tanner, nice to meet you,” said Hillary, shaking hands with Romanoff.

“Natasha. Nice to meet you. But Steve’s told me about you.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Only the good stuff.”

“Didn’t we have that one assignment together,” said Barton, “wasn’t it in -- “

“Labrador, yes,” said Hillary. “White nights on the Canadian Tundra, who can forget?”

“I understand this is your native habitat?”

“Yes. It’s much warmer.”

“I think I’ll like this better myself.”

“And Barton, Natasha, allow me to introduce Mitchell Sorensen,” said Coulson. “He and Hillary are my assistants. Mitch I hired last fall to bring in some new blood.”

“New blood’s always fine,” said Natasha.

“And how are you liking S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Sorensen?” asked Barton as they shook hands.

“Couldn’t be better,” said Mitch. “It’s been a lot of fun.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having a cruddy time with Hydra,” said Barton. “Tell me about the op.”

Coulson started filling in Barton and Natasha on the details of the case as they walked to the car. Barton nodded, and he said, “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Compared to what, Barton?” asked Natasha as Coulson popped the trunk of the car.

“Compared to trying to plant land mines and dig for secret entrances in a base that’s closed up like a shell. This should be easy.” He dropped his bags, including his quivers, into   
the back of the car.

“We’ll see how easy it is when we get there,” said Natasha.

Natasha sat up front with Coulson while Barton sat in the back with Hillary and Mitch. Barton asked Mitch the standard get-to-know-you questions. 

Then he said to Coulson, “So what do we know about this Hydra base so far?”

Coulson began, “So this particular branch of Hydra is using an office building in Scottsdale for their base. They’re using a company called Resser Fruits for computers and such,   
but the real base is underground, beneath the parking garage of the business complex.” Coulson gave him and Natasha the details of the defenses, and as he spoke it suddenly occurred to Hillary that she had heard of Resser Fruits somewhere before, but she couldn’t recall exactly where at the moment. 

“What kind of people do they have working for them?”

“Our leading suspects are Carl Wilmer, Jr., an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and Max Philips, a former lawyer. But we don’t know if they’re there or not or how many people they’ve got with them. We don’t know if they’ve managed to recruit some of the people working for this company or just embedded their own people.”

“Standard Hydra protocol is to do both, but it’s more likely they’ve embedded people,” said Natasha. “They haven’t had much time to recruit.”

“I may have met Wilmer once or twice back in the day,” said Clint. “He was a field agent for a lot of years, down in Tucson some of it. He had connections to the border patrol,   
and if he’s working for Hydra, I’ll bet the Mafia is, too.” 

“That’s right, he was in Tucson for a few years, wasn’t he?” said Coulson. 

“Do they have any enhanced?” asked Clint.

“Say, what?”

“Enhanced. People with special capabilities, superpowers, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” said Coulson. “No, we haven’t seen any sign of that, actually.”

“Thank goodness,” Hillary muttered.

Coulson was silent for a moment, though, and then he added in a very low tone, “But I think these guys might be in the market for one. How’s Steve been doing on that search for   
Bucky, by the way?”

“Bucky? That old friend of his who was an assassin for Hydra? I think he’s about given up for now. Not much time to work on a missing persons’ case, when you’re out Avenging.   
His friend Sam Wilson is doing most of the work on that, though he’s still busy with the VFW out in D.C.. I think he doesn’t have much time for that either.”

“I think we’ve about talked him out of it,” said Natasha.

“Don’t fool yourself, Nat,” said Clint. 

“I’m being optimistic.”

“But has Steve had any leads recently that would say he was down here?” asked Coulson.

“I don’t know about that,” said Clint. “He doesn’t discuss the details with me.”

“Or me either,” said Natasha.

“Well, you might want to ask him,” said Coulson. “I get the feeling if we get to the bottom of this and the Winter Soldier isn’t involved I’m going to be very relieved.” 

“But anyway,” said Natasha, “I think we’d like to know a few more details about who’s involved from that fruit company and who’s not. We’ll check this out for you personally,   
Coulson.”

“When?”

“This afternoon.”

“You do that.” 

Coulson asked Natasha and Clint about their activities with the Avengers. Mitch listened eagerly to every detail. Hillary guessed their adventures were interesting, and she would have enjoyed them under other circumstances. But it was hard to listen when her mind was occupied elsewhere, specifically at her uncle Kenny’s cabin in Payson. 

They went out to lunch at a small cafe in Tempe close to ASU--Hillary had eaten there a lot as a college student and they went on her recommendation. Then afterward they went to get Natasha and Clint checked into the hotel. They got separate rooms but on the same floor as Mitch and Coulson’s suite. Hillary helped Natasha carry up her bags while   
Coulson and Mitch went with Barton. 

“So you’re from here originally, right, Tanner?” asked Natasha as she unlocked the door to her room with her keycard.

“Yep, born and raised here,” said Hillary.

“Have you ever been out to this office complex where Hydra’s been traced to?”

“No, I haven’t,” said Hillary. “It’s probably one of the newer ones. This community’s really grown in the last ten years.”

Natasha told her to set the big suitcase on the bed. The smaller one she set on the luggage stand. Natasha pulled out a beige-colored business suit and hung it up in the closet.

“So how about that guy who came over and attacked your house? Did he actually do anything?”

“No, he didn’t, really,” said Hillary. “I think he was just there scouting out. I saw him three times, but he was probably over there more than that. He always came through the   
backyard.” 

“I knew this guy, back in the day,” said Natasha. “Marvin Stall specialized in stakeouts and scouting operations. He was really good with using field tech--though it seems like quitting S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t slow him down.”

Natasha started making an internet search on her smartphone.

“Isn’t it weird how a lot of the people we keep running into working for Hydra actually used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“That’s because until last April, S.H.I.E.L.D. was Hydra,” said Natasha. 

“I know--but we knew these people,” said Hillary.

Natasha put the phone up to her ear. “I’m going to make a call,” she said. Hillary heard someone answering on the other end, and Natasha answered. “Yes, hello, I would like to   
speak with Mrs. Greene? I may, thank you.” She was on hold for all of five seconds. “Hello, Mrs. Greene? My name is Miranda Swathie. I work for Leenwood Advertising in Los Angeles. Your corporate advertising supervisor said the Scottsdale branch of Resser Fruits would be interested in talking about a new advertising package for their new product...Oh, okay...mm-hmm, yes? Okay then. I am meeting with a number of different firms in the Phoenix area this week, and I just have time this afternoon to come and visit you sometime between two and five. Would you happen to have an opening then?...Yes, I understand, Marissa. Well, I do not know if I would be able to move our appointment to tomorrow. I am booked all afternoon. I could call you back if someone canceled at the last minute, but I have no way of guaranteeing that….Yes, that would be perfect. Three-fifteen it is, then. I will see you then. Take care. Goodbye.” Natasha hung up. “So we have an appointment at three fifteen to visit with Marissa Greene. She’s the director of Resser Fruits’ Scottsdale office.”

“Well, okay, then,” said Hillary. “But you’re not just going to walk in there and ask her who in her company is working for Hydra, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” said Natasha. “I’m not going to ask her anything of the sort. We’re going to walk into there, have our meeting, and go out, but while we’re there we’ll be sure to look at all of the people who work there and what they are up to. And we’ll keep our eyes peeled for Wilmer and Philips.”

“But you told her you’re an agent for an advertising company. How much do you actually know about advertising?”

“I know enough about everything to do anything,” said Natasha, reaching into her suitcase.

“Well, what are the chances she’s going to do an internet search for Miranda Swathie of Leenwood Advertising and find out you’re completely fake?”

“They’re serious enough,” said Natasha, scrolling on her smartphone. “But don’t you remember the undercover professional app for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yes, we’ve had that app longer than apps were a thing,” said Hillary. “But I thought it didn’t work anymore.”

“Well, we’ve fixed it.” She handed her smartphone to Hillary. There on the company website for Leenwood Advertising was an employee profile for a blonde, toothy woman who   
didn’t look anything like Natasha. 

“Well, how about that?” said Hillary. She handed the phone back to Natasha, who gave her a silky black skirt and an oriental blouse. 

“Here, I need you to put these on,” said Natasha. “You’re coming with me.” 

The skirt was almost a little too short for Hillary, and the collar of the blouse nearly choked her. Natasha had her put on some skin-colored tights and some black flats. Natasha   
did Hillary’s hair and makeup in about fifteen minutes--”you’ve got to learn to dress yourself quickly, when you’re a spy,” said Natasha. Hillary’s hair was done up in a spiraled knot pinned with an ornate butterfly of glass and metal that matched the blouse. She was wearing very thick foundation, a dark red lipstick, metallic eyeshadow, and eyeliner about a quarter of an inch wide. She wasn’t sure whether she looked like a 1960s model or an Asian-obsessed American.

“If I’d been told I was getting a makeover today, I’d have probably ditched work,” said Hillary as she looked herself over in the mirror.

“Shame on you,” said Natasha quietly. Natasha changed into the business suit and added some large, noisy bangles for her wrists. For her head she had a long, blonde wig, and   
she had a mask that changed her facial features.

“You look like a Barbie doll,” said Hillary.

“I know,” said Natasha. “What I enjoy about this job is throwing people off.” 

Their situation must be serious indeed, if Hillary had to go undercover in her own hometown. But they didn’t know how bad things really were yet, she told herself. 

Natasha made Hillary pack gear for them while she was getting ready. They each received a purse--well, Natasha had a giant purse with cameras and microphones embedded in   
the outer pockets, while Hillary had a clutch that carried a concealed taser inside the flap. Natasha had a small microphone in her ear. There was loads of other spying equipment   
in the large black suitcase Natasha had brought, and Hillary got to carry it out to the lobby.

They went out to the hotel lobby to confer with their male friends. Barton had dressed himself in his Avengers’ uniform, though he wore a dark jacket over it. When they saw her, Mitch pursed his lips together as though trying hard not to say something, and Coulson gave a wolf-whistle.

“You’re taking Agent Tanner with you?” he asked Natasha.

“Of course I am, you didn’t think I was going to go in there alone, were you?”

“I thought you normally did,” said Barton.

“Shut up, Barton.” 

“I’m sorry, but, Hillary, that outfit looks ridiculous. And anybody who knows you will recognize you,” Mitch snerked

“Well, it’s not like I was planning on going to church with my hair in this...beehive,” said Hillary.

“That’s not the worst disguise I’ve seen her make people wear,” said Barton.

“So you’re going to drive out there now?” asked Coulson.

“No. My appointment’s not until three-fifteen, so I will trust that Agent Tanner can help me find the long way around.”

“And Barton, are you going with her?” 

“Not quite. She’ll be taking the longer way, while I’ll take the freeway. And I’ll be leaving right away.”

“I see,” said Coulson.

“I believe I’m taking this,” said Barton, picking up the black suitcase from Hillary. “And Agent Sorensen, I want you to come with me. You can drive the getaway vehicle if I get caught, but that’s not the plan.”

“What is the plan?” asked Mitch.

“You do what I tell you and park the car somewhere out of sight.”

“So have you had any reports on the investigation?” asked Natasha.

“Yeah, Agent Parsons called me earlier to give me an update, though there wasn’t much to say,” said Coulson. He leaned against one of the nice couches. “We’ve had no leads on   
who Lambda is or who else Hydra could be calling for help. Michael Lemicks is completely off the radar now.”

“We’ll find him,” said Natasha.

“Yeah, we probably will. And the Free Range Party leaders are being called in for questioning by the FBI, but they have a lawyer who’s making things very difficult.”

“Well, keep us posted,” said Natasha. “You have our phone numbers. If you find out anything let us know.”

“I will. I’ve got to go back to the office now, so good luck.” He gave Natasha and Hillary an encouraging smile and a wink.

Barton and Mitch started walking out of the lobby after Coulson. But Natasha took Hillary to the bar in the hotel lobby.

“Have you ever been to a bar before, Tanner?” asked Natasha quietly as they walked in.

“A few times.” This was true, but Natasha probably knew she didn’t drink. 

“Hold your chin up and act like you fit in here,” said Natasha. They sauntered up to the marble counter of the bar and Natasha swung herself onto the leather seat with ease.   
Hillary had a little more difficulty doing this with her skirt and her high heels. 

“An iced vodka for me,” said Natasha to the barman. “And what will you have?”

“A virgin dacarry. Extra virgin. On the rocks.” 

The barman went to take their orders.

“Wow, you really have been to a bar before.”

“My dad gave me some advice on what kind of non-alcoholic beverages to order. In case I ever had to.”

“And I see you’ve had to use it.”

Natasha asked Hillary a little more about her background, mostly about her schooling at Arizona State, and told her not to mention S.H.I.E.L.D. while they were in the bar. The barroom had a dull light setting, and there were a few people sitting a few seats away from them at the bar or huddled at the tables, usually no more than one or two. While she was there she made a phone call to order a rental car, using the name Miranda Swathie to pay for it. Their drinks arrived, and they drank, and Natasha paid for their order and tipped with a massive amount of cash from her purse. Hillary also noticed that Natasha was wearing a blingy set of fake nails. 

“You don’t normally dress this blingy, do you?” asked Hillary as they walked out of the hotel lobby into the afternoon sunlight.

“No, I don’t. My personal style is a little more conservative.” 

The rental car waiting for them in the parking lot was a 2010 Toyota ___, medium-sized and metallic green. Natasha turned on the car but asked Hillary to do the navigation for   
her. The dashboard featured a large touch-screen with a GPS app, and Hillary inserted the address for Resser Fruits, Inc. Natasha calculated a route that would take them down _____ Road into Scottsdale.

“So when we get in there,” said Natasha, “I want you to stay close to me and keep silent. Don’t answer any of their questions. If anyone wants to know who you are, you tell them   
you are Katie Saller, and you’re an intern who’s traveling with me. Don’t make up stories--that’s my job. And every moment when you’re in there, observe what’s going on. Study   
the faces. Listen for names that get dropped--who’s in charge, what they’re doing. Watch out for funny activity, like people checking secret buttons or doing something weird from their computer.”

“Sure,” said Hillary.


	10. Undercover Friends

The traffic going from Tempe to Scottsdale wasn’t terrible for that time of the afternoon. The freeways carried a steady flow of cars traveling around the city. Mitch and Barton had dropped off Coulson at the S.H.I.E.L.D. office and were now on their way to the stakeout.

“So how about you and Black Widow, then?” Mitch asked when the conversation lagged.

“What about her?”

“Well, you two have been working together for a long time. You’ve been a team longer than the Avengers, even?”

“Right,” said Barton. He kept his hands steady on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead through his sunglasses.

“Hillary’s told me a lot about you guys--well, the Avengers. And you two specifically she’s heard about because you’ve worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for so long.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said you two were unstoppable.”

“We like to give that impression, yeah.” 

“And especially when you work together.”

“Yeah. But we don’t get to that often. We have different skill sets. Different ways of handling things.”

“But in your off-time, though, you two hang out with each other, right?”

“We hang out when we’re with the Avengers.”

“I meant aside from that. Is it true that you’re dating her?”

“Look, kid, whatever you’ve heard about us, forget it.”

“Well, how come you like working with her?”

“It’s not like in the romantic sense,” said Barton flatly. “Love is for children. I owe her a debt.” 

“Oh...okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s all right,” said Barton, smiling a little. “Tell you what, you help me out with this thing, and you can see for yourself how we work. Got it?”

“Got it,” Mitch nodded.

 

The Westview Business Park in Scottsdale was a reasonable distance from Camelback mountain, not right under it but close enough so that it dominated most of the skyline in the area. The buildings were two rectangles joined together and painted white, with glass doors and small, square windows. The landscaping was grass and mesquite trees, not yet at full green in the early springtime. 

There were four buildings and a two-story parking garage in the center. Natasha parked their rental car in front of Building 2 by a sign listing the different companies housed inside of it with their respective logos and suite numbers. Resser Fruits, Inc. had a professional type with a small fruit cluster--an apple, a pear, and a bunch of grapes--beneath it, with a boldfaced R carved onto the pear. 

“It’s in suite C,” Hillary read as she climbed out of the rental car, grabbing her clutch bag.

Natasha said nothing as she got out of the driver’s seat, but she looked around. Hillary saw that she was eyeing a small security camera above the door to building A. Then she started to walk inside, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Hillary walked close behind her, Natasha's clicking on the sidewalk.

The entry hall to building 2 had a small lobby with leather chairs. There were doors leading to suites A and B and a staircase leading to the other two upstairs. Natasha strolled up the stairs confidently, while Hillary trembled slightly in her slightly-too-large flats. There was no railing on the staircase. She looked down trying to make her steps careful, but then she glanced up for half a second and saw Natasha looking back at her. She could not recognize the face under the face-changing mask, but there was something in the demeanor of Miranda Swathie that reminded her of Natasha Romanoff. And she seemed to be trying to communicate with her: Remember what we’re here to do.

Hillary looked around as they walked into the inside door of the office. It seemed to be a normal, innocent workspace. There were people at cubicles making phone calls, typing emails and letters, and doing normal office work. One person got up and went to a printer at the back of the room to make copies. Hillary tried to pay attention to the faces and imprint on them. There was a glass wall on the right side of the room that revealed people in smaller rooms working, or at the moment talking and laughing about something or other.

I could’ve had a normal job, Hillary couldn’t help thinking. I could’ve done something normal for a living and stayed at home and done what these people are doing, instead of being the one coming to spy on them.

Natasha walked up to the front desk that blocked off the main work area. She introduced herself to the receptionist. The receptionist told them to follow her. She left her seat and led Hillary and Natasha away from the work area and up a hallway leading off to the right. There were several closed doors on either side and two chairs on the right.

The receptionist knocked on the door directly across from the chairs. A voice said to come in. The receptionist poked her head inside and announced them. The voice inside said something in answer.

The receptionist closed the door. “Mrs. Greene will be with you in just a few moments.”

“All right. Thank you,” said Natasha pleasantly. 

The receptionist disappeared.

Hillary looked around the hallway. There were watercolor paintings of plants and fruit trees on the wall in shades that complemented the pale blue carpet. There were also name plaques on the doors. She could not read the ones on either side of the waiting area chairs. But she saw that the one right across from them read Leslie C. Greene, Branch Firm Director. The one next to it read Wilson White, Larry Schwartz, Branch Firm Managers. 

When she saw the name Wilson White, Hillary had a sharp intake of breath, but when she looked over at Natasha she saw that Natasha was already looking at her and giving her a stern look.

The next few minutes passed very slowly. The watch that Natasha was wearing read 3:14 when she checked but Hillary figured they would be lucky to make it into their appointment on time.

A woman in a red business suit came out of the door to their right and greeted them politely. A minute or so later she returned to the office and stayed in there.  
Hillary could hear voices in Wilson White’s office. A man came out at 3:17. He was tall and wore a crisp gray suit, and his graying hair was combed back. Hillary recognized the sagging, lined face from a mug shot that she had seen in the S.H.I.E.L.D. files. It was Max Philips. Philips gave Natasha and Hillary a glance. He was on the phone and talking to someone. “Yes, yes, I have a copy of that report that I can scan and send to you,” he said.

Hillary sat rigidly in her chair, watching him as he left. He glanced at her as he walked away. Then when he left, Hillary noticed the weight pressing down on her wrist: it was Natasha. 

She took several deep breaths. 

Another person came out of the office: it was Carl Wilmer, Jr. He was tall and balding, like his father, but his hair was gray and dark blonde instead of white and he was very trim around the middle. He wore a beige suit. He didn’t pay any attention to Hillary or Natasha as he walked out. Hillary braced herself for Natasha to restrain her but Natasha was reading something on her phone. 

Wilmer, Jr. returned to his office. He said hello to them quietly, and they muttered their reply. At 3:25, just as Phillips was returning, the door to Mrs. Greene’s office opened. Two people came out, a man in a black suit and a woman in a light green skirt and blazer. They were wrapping up the conversation they had held in their office. The man gave her a business card and shook hands with her, and then he left.

The woman saw Hillary and Natasha. “Well, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long. I hope you didn’t mind.”

“It was no trouble,” said Natasha sweetly.

“You must be Miranda. I’m Louise Greene, the branch director for Resser Fruits here in Scottsdale.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Natasha as they shook hands. “I appreciate that you could meet with me on such short notice.”

“Not a problem,” said Mrs. Greene. “And who is this?” she said, looking at Hillary.

“This is Katie, she’s my intern,” said Natasha, smiling broadly at Hillary and nodding.

“How do you do, Mrs. Greene?” said Hillary, smiling.

“Very well, thank you,” said Mrs. Greene. “Please, come in and have a seat.”

Mrs. Greene’s office was very nicely furnished, with cloth-covered chairs in front of the desk and a large black office chair behind it. She had a large flat-screen computer sitting on a winged desk. For decoration there was a bird figurine made of crystal dangling from a hook and a picture of Mrs. Greene with people that Hillary assumed to be her husband and children.

“Now who was that just visiting you now?” asked Natasha.

“That was Paul Morton, one of our stock managers.” She described the nature of the visit in brief, and Natasha listened attentively. “So what can I do for you ladies? You said you had two advertising offers you wanted to show me?”

“Yes, I did, if you will allow me,” said Natasha, opening up a briefcase she had brought. She pulled out a paper chart with two diagrams that Hillary could not decipher, but Natasha explained them with expert ease. Natasha talked to Mrs. Greene intelligently about advertising and business dealings. It was all Hillary could do to keep from gaping at her in astonishment. Natasha would look at Hillary sometimes and ask her to back up something she was saying, and Hillary would respond, “Yes, indeed,” and “Yes, that’s right,” and so on.

Mrs. Greene would sometimes talk about the other managers or workers at the firm who understood their expertise, and Natasha would listen attentively and question Mrs. Greene further about these coworkers. It was so subtle and naturally tied to the topic of conversation that Hillary doubted that even she would be able to tell that it was really an interrogation. 

At one point Natasha did ask, “So how about Mr. White and Mr. Schwartz? Do they usually give you input about advertising?”

“They’ve given me some input but not much,” said Mrs. Greene. “That isn’t really their area of expertise. They’re in charge of contacting our buyers.” She gave Natasha a few miscellaneous details about their line of work.

“And have they been working here long?”

“You know, it’s funny, but they haven’t. They mostly carry out orders from corporate. They don’t do that much of their own initiative, that I’ve seen. And they’ve only been working here for about a month. Our last firm manager had to take a leave of absence after the Christmas holidays, and Corporate sent Wilson and Schwartz to cover for him. It’s only been a month and a half or so, so I imagine they’re still getting the hang of things.”

“And when will your other firm manager be back?” asked Natasha.

“At the end of April, it seems. Schwartz and Wilson aren’t from around here and I think they would rather be gone by the time it warms up for the summer.”  
Natasha laughed. “I don’t blame them in the slightest.”

They talked for a few more moments on this tangent before returning to the matter at hand. Then as they were talking about Mrs. Greene’s business dealings with local fruit farmers when there came a knock on the door.

“Come in,” said Mrs. Greene.

Carl Wilmer, Jr. poked his head through the door. “Louise, I got an email from corporate saying they need you to provide a second report on the last quarter’s sales.”

“Yes, if you would be kind enough to forward me the email, I will look at it later,” said Mrs. Greene. “I have company right now, if you will excuse me.”

“Of course. And could we talk about it when you’re finished?”

“Yes, we will.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Wilmer. He bowed out.

The meeting ended up taking no more than twenty minutes. Hillary wanted very much to go to the bathroom the entire time. Finally, Mrs, Greene stood up. Hillary and Natasha stood up and shook hands with her, and she showed them to the door. Carl Wilmer poked his head out as they were walking away.

It was while Hillary and Natasha were on their way out of the office that Hillary saw that one of the glass doors to the partitioned rooms on the side were opened. One of the people who had been in the room was leaning over a cubicle talking to someone. And that person looked very familiar to Hillary.

“What do you mean, you don’t have time for puns, Stacy?” Mark Lawson asked the girl on the computer below the cubicle wall. “If you can’t talk, pun, I always say.” 

“I can talk, thank you very much,” said the girl irritably.

Mark laughed, and Stacy laughed with him reluctantly.

But Natasha was already on her way out the door of the suite, and Hillary had to run to catch up with her. She nearly tripped as she crossed the threshold of suite C but she caught herself before going flying down the stairs. Natasha heard her grunt of terror and turned around.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Hillary. 

Natasha gave her a skeptical look.

As Hillary walked down the stairs, she felt like she would have given anything to turn around and go running back up to that office. A part of her wanted to scream and cry already, but she had to stop herself forcibly from going down that route. We don’t know all the facts yet. We can’t assume anything yet.

The trip through the downstairs lobby was uneventful. As they stepped outside, Natasha said to Hillary, “So we found our two main guys. Did we learn anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” said Hillary. “Mrs. Greene said that most of the people in her office she knows pretty well and they aren’t doing anything suspicious.”

“And the people she doesn’t know well?” 

“She said they came here from corporate,” said Hillary.

Hillary opened her car door. She looked down at the glove compartment, feeling sick. It must have shown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked.

“I think I know one of the people who works in that office.” 

 

Clint Barton was lying flat on the roof of Building 2. He could see that Natasha and Hillary were talking as they pulled their rental car out of the parking lot, but naturally from that distance he couldn’t hear what they were discussing. Of course, if there was anything juicy they had learned from their investigation he would find out about it later.  
He remained motionless as the car pulled out of the lot. And he continued to stay still after they had gone out of sight. It was a quiet afternoon, with hardly a breeze to stir the budding mesquite trees below him. There were a few birds hopping around and singing in the parking lot. But the business park was several streets away from the main street of the city, separated by other business complexes, a golf course, lots of trees, and a small, pricey neighborhood of white pseudo-adobe houses. So there was no hum of traffic in the background. He could, however, hear an approaching car from a block away. A metallic, pale-blue car entered the parking lot about five minutes after Nat had left. It pulled up to the parking garage, stopped at the entrance so the driver could check their pass, and then went inside. The parking garage with its two shaded levels was restricted to the employees of the many firms in the business complex, and in this desert climate where the summers were deathly, it was a very privileged luxury. So among those who came here to work every day, a few of them, Clint reasoned, who worked for Hydra would have access to the garage, to the elevator that connected the floors, and to the locked basement underneath. But, of course, that wasn’t saying that Hydra could also find ways to bring people in--there was a three-and-a-half foot barrier around the first floor of the garage, so anyone who was physically fit enough could climb up there. And chances were there was probably a hidden entrance somewhere. When he had arrived at the business complex he had seen several storm drains in the parking lot, a necessity for the sudden rainstorms and flash floods of Arizona’s monsoon season. 

He hadn’t gone far along this train of thought, however, when his ear radio buzzed. “Barton, can you hear me?” came Agent Sorensen’s anxious voice.

“Not so loud, kid,” said Clint quietly. “What’s going on?”

“Have you found out anything yet?”

“No.” It should have been obvious. “It’s hard for me to keep quiet with you ringing me up all the time.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. But did Romanoff and Hillary get there already?”

“Yeah, they’ve come and gone.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll talk to you later.”

Mitch hung up from the call. Cint cursed him mentally. A green-around-the-ears S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had heard too many good things about the Avengers was more of a liability than an asset. But the kid would learn soon enough. 

He hated having a reputation within the intelligence community. Of course, it was hard not to have one, when you used a bow and arrow, but he couldn’t shrug off the limelight. Whenever things were serious, it was Barton who was called in, so fame spread for his ability to accomplish the impossible. And now that he was with the Avengers, he had to put up with a lot more.

Mitch had parked in a back street between a residential area and another business complex about half a mile away. 

“I’m going to walk the rest of the way and sneak in. You wait here?”

“For how long? Mitch asked.

“Until I get back. And don’t call me unless you’re really in trouble.”

Well, the kid had already failed. Clint returned his focus to the hunt. No one came out of the office buildings much. He did see one person about four who stepped outdoors to make a phone call. They paced back and forth in front of the plant boxes for ten minutes, and though Clint could hear the voice he couldn’t make out any words. He was somewhat relieved when the person returned inside. He saw another car, a red one, drive around the parking garage to building 3. 

He only got up once to stretch. Shortly after five o’clock, the workers started coming out of the buildings. The first was only a woman from Building 1 with long blonde hair, wearing a blue sweater and beige pants and carrying a green purse. But after she had disappeared into the garage he saw two more people appear from around the corner. From the top of building 2 he could see the faces of the drivers as they pulled out of the garage in their vehicles. So he kept a mental list of who he saw disappearing into the garage and who came back out. 

One of the first people to come out of Building 2 was a woman dressed in green. She was talking on a cellular phone. Clint watched the people going out of the building very carefully. He also kept an eye on the growing stream of cars that were emerging from the garage.

At about five-fifteen he saw two men walking out of the building wearing off-colored suits. They walked into the garage, talking as they went together. Clint waited for them to reappear at the garage entrance, but they never came out. 

Clint made a mental note to check what the operating hours were for the garage. 

Three more people from building 2 went into the garage and did not come out. There was also a person from building 4 who did not reappear in his vehicle. Before it was five-thirty, Clint had counted at least ten people overall, most of them from building 2, who did not leave the garage.

At five-thirty-five, he saw a young man in a black business suit walking out of the building by himself. He wore glasses and by Clint’s guess wasn’t much older than Mitch or HIllary. In fact he looked familiar. Clint racked his brains for a moment, trying to remember where he had seen the kid. He was relieved when he saw him again driving in a blue Honda Civic. The kid pulled out of the garage, tapped his card on the reader, and turned towards the drive leading out of the business complex.

Clint watched the gap between the barrier and the roof of the first floor of the garage, but there was only a dark space there that he couldn’t see very well. There were fewer people coming out of the buildings now. At six o’clock the parking lot was silent again.

Then at six o-five, a car drove into the business complex, a silver mini-van. 

It seems you’re going the wrong way, Barton said to himself.

He could see at least three people inside of it. The driver had a parking pass and the vehicle was admitted to the garage. 

At six-seventeen, another car appeared. It was a pickup truck, a white one. There were two people inside of it, and also something in the bed that was covered with a tarp.  
Barton wondered if he waited around much longer that he would see more people who weren’t supposed to be there. But then his ear radio went off again.

“Agent Barton, what’s happening?”

“Nothing much, Coulson,” said Clint. “It seems there are a few people who decided to hang around here after work. But I don’t know if I should wait around a little more or go in for a closer look.”

“I need you to come look at something.”

“Okay then. Barton out.” 

Clint got up and ran across the roof to the back of building 2. Clint didn’t much look forward to going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. without anything to report.  
But his time had not been wasted. He had been forming a plan of attack.

 

Kenny had woken up Bucky at eight o’clock in the morning. They had a breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and then went back outside to work. Kenny drove the truck around to the woodpiles they had created the previous afternoon. Then he would park, and he and Bucky would load. The temperature was close to freezing and Bucky could feel it through his clothes and his shoes, but he kept his mind off the cold and off everything else by working. When the bed of the truck was fully loaded, Kenny drove the truck to a place away from the cabin, behind a fence in a clearing. They unloaded the wood into a single pile. Kenny explained that some of the wood would be used for bonfires or inside fires as needed during the year, but some of it would be hauled away later in the spring. They loaded and unloaded the truck a total of three times. And while they worked Ace mostly sat in the truck where it was warm. He would stick out the open car window and let his tongue hang out of his mouth.

“What’re you looking at, mutt?” asked Bucky as he walked by the cab on one occasion.

When they had gone outside at nine, the sky over the forest was a pale pink with streaks of blue clouds hanging over the trees. At about eleven-thirty they were finished. Kenny  
saved a small pile of wood in the back of the truck--he told Bucky he wanted to build a fire in the cabin fireplace with it later on. That selected wood they took with them and tucked it in the garage. The rest they left in a pile in the clearing, covered with a tarp.

More clouds had moved in and hung cold and gray over the wood. It was no longer quite as cold but there was still a definite nip in the air. They went inside and Kenny made them a lunch of tomato soup and cheese sandwiches, and Bucky could hardly begin to name the time when he had tasted anything so delicious and warm. 

Kenny went outside to do some work on fixing the porch but did not press Bucky to join him. Bucky stayed inside to take a short nap on the living room couch. Afterward, he went outside to talk with Kenny. Ace was pacing back and forth on the porch and the yard.

“I think Ace would like to go for a walk,” said Kenny as he pulled some nails out of an old floorboard. “You can go with him. There’s some trails here and there around the place, and you can take him to the field down there to run. And I’ve got some dog toys in the truck, if you want to have those. He likes to play fetch.”

“Sure,” said Bucky. He went into the cabin. 

He had brought the yellow scarf that Jo had given him for Christmas. He wrapped it around his neck and tucked it under his jacket so that the knot barely showed above the zipper. Then he put his cap on his head and went outside. Ace was running patiently up and down and around him as he walked to the truck. In the back of the cab he found the  
dog toys Kenny had mentioned, and he got the squishy football and carried that under his arm.

Bucky and Ace set out down a trail that was more like a track of dirt that had more debris lining it than other parts of the forest floor. Ace darted and jumped, running around and sniffing everything in sight. Bucky walked slowly. He looked around at the pine trees. They each stood about ten feet apart and rose to about a hundred feet high. Most of them did not have branches lower than fifty feet above the ground. Underfoot he could feel the crack of dead pine needles. And here and there, under the leeward side of the odd tree or in the occasional hollow, were piles of mostly melted, dirty snow. The sky was completely overcast now.

The trail led them in a wide arc around the cabin and back to an open field of dry grass crossed with fences. Ace ran out into the field barking and then zipped right back up to Bucky and panted at him eagerly.

Bucky smiled at the dog. “You want to play fetch, mutt?”

He got the football out from under his arm. He knew with his enhanced strength he could probably throw the thing a lot further than humanly reasonable, and he didn’t want to throw the ball too far for Ace to be unable to follow. So he only made a half-hearted effort to throw the ball, and it still soared almost clear to the fence in the middle of the meadow. Ace ran happily after it. Bucky watched quietly from a distance as Ace found it in the dead grass, picked it up in his huge mouth, and then came trotting back.

“Good boy,” said Bucky, rubbing the great dane behind the ears. The dog dropped the ball. It was covered with saliva. “I won’t throw it so far this time.”

Bucky threw the ball a little higher, and it landed about a third of the way less further than the fence. Ace jumped and went after it. 

He threw the ball several more times for the dog. Then Ace became tired. He took the ball in his mouth and went to the side of the hill leading up to the cabin and sat down. Bucky followed the dog and sat down right next to him. He looked out over the meadow. Where the trees started again on the far side of the small valley he could see the windows and peaked roofs of the other cabins in the area, but most of them looked to be deserted. Over the tops of the trees he could see a jagged cliff soaring thousands of feet into the air, and the forest covered its sides until almost the very top. 

It was a peaceful setting, but with a sort of gloom on it. He guessed he had brought it there. Under other circumstances, if he wasn’t up here to hide from Hydra, if Hillary and her immediate family had come with them, and if it was sunny and bright and the middle of summer, Bucky guessed he would have found it more pleasant. 

He wondered, not for the first time that day, how Hillary was doing, and how S.H.I.E.L.D.’s investigation of Hydra was going. Hopefully they would have found out where Hydra’s other base was by now, but if not it would be soon. And then there would no longer be any threat to Hillary or her family. 

But, no, Hydra always had ways of coming back, even when defeated. He could go back there, but he might never be able to shake off the fact that he had put the people he had cared about in so much danger.

Of course it had happened before, and it would happen again. If he’d been smart, he would have left Arizona altogether by now and gone someplace he hadn’t been to before. He’d only come up here because he’d wanted to stay safe without having to sever his ties to the Tanner family completely. It was too much bother sometimes, trying to keep away from S.H.I.E.L.D., but knowing that Hydra could find him and hurt the people who were helping him made him wonder if he was doing the right thing, letting these people take care of him. When he had been around people before last Thanksgiving, he had merely been afraid of the consequences of being attached to people. Now he was sure that if he didn’t leave them, then Hydra never would, either.

But someone who had helped him on his travels had said to him that sometimes love was worth the risk. 

Was he worth it, then, to the Tanners? They were so good to him, and yet he didn’t deserve it. He was a killer and a destroyer. He was the very opposite of this peaceful retreat up in the mountains: a storm of agony and chaos.

And was he worth it to Captain America? He had it on good authority from Hillary that Steve Rogers was out working with the Avengers to bring down the remnants of Hydra. He was likely to be occupied for a very long time. But Bucky knew that the Captain wasn’t going to put off the search indefinitely. And then Bucky would have to move on. Because he wasn’t the person that Steve remembered, no matter what Hillary or Jo or Trey or anyone else said to him.

Hydra would never allow him to be that.


	11. The Phantom Asset

She was in the back of the S.H.I.E.L.D. sedan seated next to Natasha. Mitch had gone back to Scottsdale to do a recon with agents Swill and Kearns, while Marcie and Agent Clay and Parsons were holding down the fort in Tempe. 

Clint was sitting up front with Coulson. They were driving out to the State Law Enforcement headquarters in Phoenix. 

Natasha was on her phone, messaging Steve Rogers. Hillary was holding on to her phone. A few minutes ago she had sent a text message to Mark Lawson.

Hey, Mark, this is Hillary. I need to talk to you about something very serious. And it is S.H.I.E.L.D. related. Can you come over to my house at nine o’clock tonight? 

She had given him her address and sent the message. 

She had opened up to Natasha right away that Mark was working for the Resser Fruits company as an accountant. The odds were very good that he was working for Hydra. She and Natasha had told Barton and Coulson. Coulson had given her permission to contact Mark and talk to him about this. Chances were, if Mark was Hydra, he would not answer the text. Clint Barton reassured her that he had seen Mark going straight home after work, but that hadn’t done much to reassure her.

When they had returned to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, Marcie Johnson had given Hillary some makeup remover, and she had changed clothes and undone her ridiculous hair. It was a relief to be back in her work clothes now. They had held a long conference with Clint, Agent Parsons, and the other members of the Tempe S.H.I.E.L.D. team about the evidence they had uncovered on their recon trip. Carl Wilmer Jr. and Max Philips were definitely working out of the fruit company’s office, and they weren’t alone. Barton had filled them in on the details of the parking garage’s layout and then started giving suggestions for a possible attack. They weren’t just going to infiltrate Hydra, they were going to war against it.

“Hey, Tanner,” said Barton from the driver’s seat, “how long have you known this Mark guy, anyway?”

“A few years,” said Hillary. “Ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. school. We went to church together in DC while he was studying accounting, and--oh! you’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“And when was that?”

“The day in fall of 20__, right before the Convergence happened. Me and a few friends took Cap to the mall and Mark was with us. You found us in the photo booth, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me,” said Barton.

“Mark’s a huge Avengers fan,” said Hillary. “And he hung out with us a lot on the weekends when I was in school. Captain Rogers would come over on the weekends and we’d watch movies to get him caught up.” Hillary sighed. Were those happy memories of Mark going to be tainted now?

“Hillary, I’m sure if he belongs to your church, then he’s not the type of person to belong to Hydra,” said Coulson.

“Well...I haven’t seen Mark in over a year. We’ve kept in touch through Facebook. I know that he’s still active and stuff, but I don’t really know. I have no way of knowing I can trust him.”

“Well, then, that’s life,” said Natasha. “There is no way of knowing who you can trust, with most people. But sometimes trusting people is overrated.”

“Mark simply may be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” said Coulson. “You might be glad you warned him, if anything happens.” 

Hillary didn’t agree with this sentiment, but she said nothing. She wanted to tell herself that everything would be okay, that Mark was on the right side. But it would hurt too much to hope for that just now. And it hurt to fear the worst just as much, if not even more. So she didn’t want to make any guesses about the outcome just yet.

She realized she hadn’t known how much she had liked Mark as a friend until she had seen him that afternoon.

Coulson had called Barton back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office after his reconnaissance because Coulson had received a disturbing phone call from a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who worked as a liaison with the US customs in Nogales. A truck going through customs had been discovered to have a secret compartment, and the compartment contained what Coulson described to them as ‘materials pertaining to Hydra.’ The truck had been seized by the authorities and would soon arrive in Phoenix. S.H.I.E.L.D. was going out to meet it. Hillary couldn’t begin to imagine what horrors were inside of it--a weapon of some kind, perhaps. Or maybe it was something being sent by Lambda, whoever that was. 

They had to go through several guarded gates that passed through high, barbed-wire fences. They arrived at the back of the State Law Enforcement warehouse and parked in the parking lot next to the other state vehicles. A large semi truck, presumably the truck in question, was sitting in front of them with its engine still roaring. There were several guys in State Trooper uniforms standing around it. Coulson and his entourage came forward to meet them.

“Are you the guys from S.H.I.E.L.D.?” asked the trooper who met them, who had the name Warren written on his name badge.

“Yes. I’m Director Phil Coulson. I happened to be in town investigating some recent developments.”

“Well, let’s see if this has got anything to do with it,” said Chief Warren.

The engine of the semi finally quieted. The state troopers handed Hillary and company flashlights. They opened up the back of the truck.

“So where is this secret compartment?” asked Barton, waving the beam of his flashlight around the dark inside of the trailer.

“I think it was up here,” said Warren. Their footsteps echoed as they walked up the metal bed of the trailer, but Hillary could hear a faint rattling sound underneath.

“The floor is hollow,” said Natasha.

“They found the one just up here,” said Warren, “but I think they wanted to save the rest for you guys.”

Hillary pointed her flashlight to the floor. There were no signs of cracks or hinges or secret compartments of any kind.

“Up here,” said Warren, kneeling down in front of them. He grabbed something that Hillary couldn’t see and the floor lifted up. He moved to the side, shining down his flashlight on the contents. “What do you see?” 

There was something in there that appeared to be black and leather.

“It seems to be some kind of a chair,” said Barton. 

“But look at it, though,” said Natasha, kneeling down for a better look. “It’s a reclining chair, motorized. And there’s retractable cuffs on the arms of it.” She touched a carved-out half cylinder of metal.

“Those pieces lock together,” said Hillary. 

“What else is in there?” Coulson interjected, moving forward. Barton hefted the leather seat to one side. “There’s the base for the chair...and then parts for some kind of a machine.” Coulson pulled out a curved piece of metal. “What do you think this goes to?”

Barton dug around in the compartment, where there were chair parts and metal pieces laying flat. The compartment couldn’t have been more than six inches deep.

“There’s not much in here,” said Barton. “But let’s see if we can open one of these other things.” He ran his hand over the edge of the compartment. He stuck his thumb under the floor and tried prying it up. Officer Warren handed him a krowbar. “Thanks.” He had propped it up without much effort. It opened from the opposite direction as the first compartment. Coulson and Natasha and Hillary moved backwards. 

Natasha bent down at the hinge. “How does Hydra do it, I wonder? There must be a lock or a keypad of some kind.”

“How did the border patrol find out about this in the first place?”

“Metal detector,” said Warren.

The second compartment had an interesting assort of materials. Some of it appeared to be medical equipment.

“An IV stand,” said Natasha, handling a metal pole. “And IV fluid bags.”

“I wonder where they’d get the medicine,” said Barton.

“Look here,” said Coulson, “this is some kind of a computer. A monitor for something.” He cursed quietly under his breath.

“For someone,” said Natasha. “Isn’t this looking familiar, Coulson?”

“You bet it is,” said Coulson.

Hillary saw a small plastic box on one side of the compartment. She picked it up and opened it. “A mouthguard. What would the mouthguard be for?”

Coulson looked at her, and in the dim light of the flashlights Hillary could see that he looked scared. “What do you think?” he whispered. “Who do you think, actually?”

“You’re the guy who found the stuff in D.C., wasn’t it?” asked Barton. “The stuff in that secret room under a bank, where they prepped the Asset?”

Coulson cursed again. He rubbed his hand through his hair, gripping his scalp very tightly.

“So what is it?” asked Officer Warren.

“This is the stuff that Hydra uses for treating their brainwashed super-assassins,” Coulson explained. 

“Let’s get out of here,” said Natasha.

“Agreed,” said Hillary. She held her breath as they walked out of the trailer--the poison and evil in those compartments was unthinkable.

“So does that mean that these Hydra people have a super-assassin?” asked Officer Warren.

“It means they were planning on getting one,” said Coulson. 

“Is he here or -- “

“We don’t know,” said Coulson. 

“But what do you want us to do with this stuff?” asked Warren.

“Destroy it,” said Natasha. There was a dangerous edge to her voice that made Hillary jump backwards.

“Destroy it? How?” 

“Burn it, melt it, break it, do whatever you can to make it not usable,” said Barton. He looked angry. “Don’t reuse it or salvage it for parts. I never want to hear about any of this   
stuff hitting the black market.”

“I want those things completely destroyed, all of them,” said Coulson. “All of them. Even the reusable stuff. That equipment was used to torture and hurt a human being. It will   
not ever do so again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Coulson,” said Warren. 

Hillary looked into the yawning black mouth of the trailer. She never would have guessed that so much evil was in there. 

She was so grateful that she had gotten Bucky out of Phoenix.

They returned to their car. 

Barton was muttering under his breath. “Steve’s told me more about this Winter Soldier mess than I’ve ever cared to hear about. But by golly it’s disturbing.”

“Yeah, well you should understand, you had your mind controlled by Loki, didn’t you?” asked Coulson as Barton started the car.

“Yes, I did. Granted it wasn’t anywhere near what they did to the poor kid. But I won’t stand for it.”

“I just hope he’s as far away from here as he can get,” said Natasha. “At least for Steve’s sake.”

“Do we tell Steve what we found out here?” asked Barton.

“No. Not yet. Let’s take care of Hydra first,” said Coulson. He was fuming. 

Hillary hugged herself tightly. She felt even worse now than when she had seen Mark earlier in the day. Was there really anywhere far enough for Bucky to hide, where they   
couldn’t catch him?

“I think you made the right call, Coulson, telling them to destroy it,” said Natasha. “But if I were you I’d check back with them a week later to make sure they followed through.”

“Right,” said Coulson. There was silence in the car for a moment. Natasha was looking out the window. Hillary checked her phone. Mark still hadn’t texted her back. 

“But of course,” said Coulson, trying to sound a little optimistic, “Bucky’s been out of Hydra for what, almost a year now? And they haven’t found him. He’s lasted this long on his   
own. Maybe he’s all right. Maybe he can take care of himself.”

“I think he can,” said Natasha.

“I think you’re right,” said Barton. “And when the time comes, he’ll make Hydra pay for what they did to him. From what Rogers has told me, that Barnes kid was brave--crazy,   
but brave.” 

“I think he still is,” said Coulson. “Did Emily ever tell you about what happened in San Antonio?”

“No, she didn’t, but Steve did,” said Barton.

“Coulson, didn’t you say you were going to tell me that story?” asked Hillary, leaning forward in her seat.

“Why, yes. I think now would be a good time to hear it,” said Coulson. “So it all started right after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Steve was in the hospital for about a week recovering from his   
injuries, and then after he’d been out for a few days he and Sam Wilson set out on their search. They came to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hideout to say hello to Emily before they left.” Coulson paused for a moment, and added, “Nick Fury had just installed Maria Hill as the temporary director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. She wasn’t too keen on Captain Rogers finding out about me just yet, so I had to stay in the back while they visited. Steve explained to Emily what had happened to Bucky. She wasn’t too convinced, or too happy that he was going to find them. But she wished them luck and they went on their way. But as it happened, a couple of nights after Steve had gone, Emily had a strange dream.”

“Was Emily always having strange dreams and stuff?” asked Hillary.

“Not that I recall,” said Coulson. “If she did, it wasn’t that often. I just remember that it happened a lot around the time S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

Coulson continued with the story. Barton contributed sometimes with details that Steve had told him. Hillary listened attentively. Natasha was still on her phone and not paying much attention. Coulson related the account from Emily setting out on the search with Steve and Sam through to its astounding conclusion. And he added that when Emily had gone home to Utah, she had seen Bucky again in Salt Lake City.

“So that’s how it happened,” Hillary gasped quietly. “He saved her life. But what you’re saying, though, is that Emily had some weird connection to Bucky? Through the Force?”

“That’s a crude way of explaining it, but yes,” said Coulson.

“Well...do you think, maybe, Bucky could feel the Force somehow?”

“No, I don’t think it was anything on his end,” said Barton. “Emily always said that the Force only existed in her home galaxy.”

“Well, technically, Emily said it exists everywhere,” said Coulson. “But the Force can only be felt in certain parts of the universe. Elsewhere it isn’t as strong.”

“But then how do you explain her connection to Bucky?” asked Hillary.

“I don’t know,” said Coulson. “She guessed that maybe he was important somehow.” Coulson looked as though he wanted to add something, but remained silent.

“Well, did she come up with the connection after the first time she fought him?”

“No, I’m not sure,” said Coulson. “She never said anything about the fight affecting her.”

“But of course, you know it’s serious when she had to use her lightsaber to fight him,” said Barton.

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Coulson. “But what I still don’t understand is how Emily’s Force abilities were so minimal the rest of the time I worked with her. And then when the Winter   
Soldier happened, it was like she was almost all-powerful again.”

“Well, the way I see it, and Steve agrees with me,” said Barton, “she had a connection to Bucky because she knew he was important to Steve. She and Steve were really close. She was friends with all of us Avengers, but it was Steve she had the most in common with.”

“That would make sense,” said Hillary.

She wondered how much of this she ought to tell Bucky. But then she wondered if she would ever get the chance to tell him.

It was completely dark when they arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Tempe. They called a meeting in the conference room, but most of the agents stood around the table rather than sat. Mitch, Swill, and Kearns had returned from their reconnaissance to report that they had seen people lurking about the garage at the business park, and they were able to give a few details about how the Hydra base was set up. The agents however, listened in alarm to Hillary, Coulson, Barton, and Natasha as they reported on what they had found being smuggled up from Mexico.

“I think they found the Winter Soldier,” said Marcie. “It goes without saying.”

“No, if they’d found him, they would have been able to keep him somewhere until they were able to wipe him,” said Parsons. “And where’s their cyro-freezing equipment? If they had that, they’d be keeping him on it.”

“Like a steak in the freezer,” said Kearns bitterly.

“Well, maybe they have a way of containing him that we don’t know about,” said Agent Clay. 

“Agent Clay, are you okay?” asked Hillary.

“I’m fine,” said Clay, rubbing his forehead with his sleeve.

“Unless you’re right and they do have some way of holding him without the cyro,” said Coulson, “I think it’s safest to assume that they haven’t found him.”

“But one thing’s for sure, they were counting on getting him,” said Barton. “I think we ought to call Rogers.”

“No, Barton, he’s got enough to worry about right now,” said Natasha.

“How about Sam Wilson, then? Isn’t he the one that Steve placed in charge of the search?” 

“I said no, Barton,” said Natasha.

“So, the best case scenario, then,” said Coulson, “is that we’re up against about fifteen guys, moderately armed, plus a defended security system blocking the entrance to their   
base. We will attack in twenty-four hours. Now here’s the plan.” Coulson pressed a remote, and a map of the business park appeared on the computer screen. “Barton and Romanoff, you will go in first. Natasha, you will attack the guards and take out the security system, while Barton will blow a hole in the roof of the lair. The rest of us will stand by with our weapons and be ready to move in and make arrests when Hydra is disarmed.

“But what about the backup they were calling?” asked Agent Swill. “Do we have any more details about Lambda?”

“No, we don’t,” said Coulson. “But I will be calling the SWAT team and the police department to back us up.” Coulson looked around at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. “I know this is a lot to ask of you. You all have families, either living close by or far away. People who love you and care about you. You may not be coming out of this alive. Even if all goes well, there will still be a great danger. But I want you to think about this. Agent Tanner called us up because Hydra threatened her family. In reality, Hydra poses the same threat to you. And to your families. To everything you hold dear. I know it’s frustrating. You watched S.H.I.E.L.D. be torn apart from the inside last April after the Insight project failed. You took out what you thought was Hydra’s only base here last August, and they came back. But you have succeeded before. And you will do it again. You’re not like the Avengers. You can’t go around the world destroying Hydra’s worst and biggest hiding places. But you can stop them here. You can stop the threat that they pose to the place you call home. And you will make a difference, so that the lives of the people here in Phoenix, here in Arizona, can go on normally. So that Hydra won’t threaten the freedom of the people who live here. And so that further on, down the line, Hydra won’t be able to rebuild itself everywhere else.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents looked at him grimly. They were scared, but they were determined.

“Well said, sir,” said Agent Parsons.

Coulson looked at Natasha and Barton. “Romanoff, Barton, I really appreciate you coming out here to help us.”

“Not a problem,” said Natasha.

“Well, you should probably also tell Rogers thank you for letting us come,” said Barton.

“You are all dismissed,” said Coulson. “Go home and get a good night’s sleep. Let’s be back here at seven tomorrow morning to start getting ready.” 

The meeting broke up with the agents making small talk. 

Hillary and Mitch went together to their cubicles to get their things.

“That was an intense speech,” said Mitch. “I’ve been working here for two months, almost. I didn’t expect to be dying on the job so soon.”

“I thought you’d been in life and death situations before, Mitch.”

“Well, I have, except this time I’ve gotten a little more advance notice. And this time it’s more likely that we’ll actually be killed.”

“Well, just think about it, though,” said Hillary, “every time it’s looked like we were going to die, we’ve pulled out of it.”

“I know, I know,” said Mitch. “So have you heard back from that Mark guy?”

“I haven’t checked my phone in a while, so maybe he has,” said Hillary. She pulled out her phone. There weren’t any new messages. Mitch was starting to say something else to   
her when Coulson and Natasha walked out of the conference room. Coulson took her into Agent Parsons’ office and closed the door.

Natasha had been talking to Agent Johnson with Barton when Coulson had pulled her aside. When they were securely behind Parsons’ door, Natasha said, “What is it, Coulson?”

Coulson leaned against the front of Parsons’ desk and folded his arms. “Now, Natasha. When I said it was a safe bet that Hydra hadn’t found the Winter Soldier yet, I was being optimistic. If they’ve got the prepping materials--”

“Just because they were bringing up the materials doesn’t mean they found him,” said Natasha.

“I know,” said Coulson. “But if they do have him--I mean, if Hydra has found him,” Coulson breathed in deeply, “it may mean death for the rest of us. You know what he was   
capable of.”

“Better than anybody,” said Natasha.

“So if the worst-case scenario plays out,” said Coulson. “I want you to confront him. You’ve fought him before. I read the reports--you nearly beat him.”

“He almost killed me.” 

“But you know how to fight him,” said Coulson. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this unless it were absolutely necessary. But if we meet him tomorrow night, you’re going to be the one   
to fight him. And I want you to capture him, not kill him. You know what he means to Captain Rogers.”

“Coulson, I know you’re a huge Captain America fan--”

“I’m not asking you as a fan, I’m asking you as a friend,” Coulson cut her off.

“Coulson,” said Natasha. She looked him in the eyes. Her face was expressionless, but Coulson knew her well enough to know that this was the closest she ever came to pleading. 

“He might not give me a choice.”

“You will always have a choice,” said Coulson. “I’m counting on you to make the right one.” 

Hillary and Mitch were still talking when they saw Natasha walking out of the office. Barton was waiting for her at the door to the suite, and they left. 

“Are you sure they’re dating?” Mitch asked her.

“I’m sure they’re in the thick of it,” said Hillary.

“Well, I hope whoever told you that checked with their sources,” said Mitch.

“It’s just old S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip.”

“Well, Barton told me he owes her a debt.”

“A likely story.”

Coulson came out of Parsons’ office with his briefcase packed. “Mitch, are you ready to go?”

“I’m ready, sir,” said Mitch. 

Coulson looked over at Hillary. “And have you heard back from your friend yet?”

“I haven’t,” said Hillary. “Still waiting.”

“Well, if you do hear back from him, let me know,” said Coulson. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, boss.”

They said goodnight, and Coulson and Mitch walked out of the office suite.

Just a few moments later, oddly enough, Hillary’s phone went off. It was a text from Mitch.

“Finally,” she said.

Hillary, I would be happy to come over and talk with you. I am on my way to your family’s house right now. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back earlier. I was having a skype call with my family.

Hillary responded:

It’s no problem. I am on my way home from work right now.

There were days when Hillary had worked at the Tempe office last year that it would seem like she would never be allowed to go home and have to spend the night at the office when things were hectic. Tonight, for once, she dreaded going home. But she knew she would rather deal with Mark in her own territory, where she was comfortable, and where hopefully the influence of home and family would bring out the good in him--and in herself.


	12. Truth and Trust

When she got home, it was about nine o’clock. There was no sign of Mark. She walked into the house through the back door. Her parents were in the living room, her father watching television and her mother crocheting a burp cloth for Susan’s baby.

“Well, look who’s home,” said Trey.

“How did it go today, honey?” asked Jo.

“Long,” said Hillary. She went grabbed a cup from the cupboard and got a drink from the water tank.

“Did you make any headway on your investigation?” asked Jo.

“Lots,” said Hillary. “By the way, I’ve got a friend coming over.”

“Oh really, who?”

“Mark Lawson. He was a guy I knew in D.C.. He just got a job out here.”

“Really, well that’s nice,” said Jo. 

Hillary got some leftover rice and chicken out of the fridge. “And by the way, we’re going to be talking about S.H.I.E.L.D.-related business. His name came up in the investigation today, so he might know something. I need you guys to stay out of the living room, if that’s okay.”

“Your call, dear,” said Trey.

“Thanks,” said Hillary. She scooped her leftovers onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. She sat down at the table to eat. She prayed over her food, and she prayed that Mark would get there quickly, and that she would be able to talk to him calmly. She prayed that she could accept the truth when she heard it. 

Her mother walked past her to the bathroom and noticed she had a sulky look on her face as she ate her dinner. 

“Is anything the matter, dear?” asked Jo.

“It’s nothing I can talk about right now,” said Hillary. 

“Oh, all right. I washed some clothes for you today. I thought you might need it.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Hillary finished her dinner in silence. When she got up to rinse her plate off, her dad turned off the TV and left the living room. And not a moment too soon. There was a knock   
on the front door. Visitors to the house who didn’t know the Tanners very well usually came at the front.

She had already stopped panicking about Mark. It was just time to ask him what was happening and then to accept whatever came of it.

She unlocked the front door. There was Mark Lawson, beaming at her from under his glasses. He had changed out of his work clothes into jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. 

“Hey!” he said cheerfully.

“Hi, Mark,” said Hillary. “Come in.” She closed the door behind him. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating the couches. She had a hard time not thinking that that was the same   
couch where she and Bucky had sat just the other night.

“Thanks. So, what is it you needed to talk to me about?”

He sat down, and so did Hillary. Hillary looked at the floor. She didn’t know where to begin. She would rather have done this at the table, she realized, where she could sit across   
from him. But no, she would rather do this as a friend.

“Mark, do you remember what happened last spring, when S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed?”

“Yes, I do,” said Mark. His smile faded a little.

“Well, do you know much about it?”

“They said there was an evil organization within S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said Mark, “that was trying to use S.H.I.E.L.D.’s latest intelligence program to take over the world. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is,” said Hillary. That didn’t sound out of the ordinary for a layman. “So, this evil organization--it’s called Hydra. It was around back in the 1940s, and Captain America   
was the one who was fighting them during World War II. But they’ve managed to stick around, and even after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been trying to destroy the remnants   
of Hydra. But they’ve turned up again in the Phoenix Area.”

“Oh, really?” said Mark. He was surprised.

“Now, I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but,” she took a deep breath. The introductions were always so much easier than the meat of the subject. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has detected that Hydra has built its new base in the parking garage at the business complex where you work.”

“Okay.”

“And there are people whom S.H.I.E.L.D. believes to be working for Hydra that are operating out of Resser Fruits’s office in Scottsdale.”

“Okay.” Mark sounded a little worried.

“Now, Mark, I was there at your work today--I was undercover, so you wouldn’t have recognized me even if you’d seen me. But I saw you there today. And I need to know--not   
just because S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to know, but for personal reasons. Hydra is one of the most evil organizations to have ever existed in this world. They have committed terrible   
crimes in order to gain power. Mark, I need to know--and I need you to be absolutely , a hundred and ten percent honest with me--are you or have you ever been affiliated with   
Hydra?”

Mark’s face darkened. “Why would you think that of me?”

“Mark, please...I’ll be honest with you. I’m scared. I’ve known you for so long. I know that you’re a good person. But Hydra has threatened my family--they had a guy over here   
last weekend who was trying to break into my house to hurt--to hurt a friend of mine. And they would have hurt me, too, because I was standing in their way. Mark, please, I   
need you to tell me that you’re not Hydra.”

“Oh, Hillary, I’m so sorry,” said Mark. “Hillary. I have no idea who these people are or what they’re trying to accomplish. I’m not working for them, I swear it.”  
“Look me in the eyes and tell me,” she said. She sat up straight.

“I’m not. Do you believe me?”

Hillary hesitated. “I want to. But this is how Hydra has worked over the years, they’ve corrupted the loyalties of the people we’ve thought were closest to us--people we thought   
we could believe in.”

“Hillary, you don’t have to think that of me,” said Mark. “I’m not Hydra. But can you take my word for it? Can you ask me not to have to prove it?”

Hillary closed her eyes. 

“Hillary, you’re just doubting me because that’s what you’ve been trained to do,” said Mark. “You’re a spy: you don’t trust anyone. But that’s to be expected. I’m an accountant.   
And an honest one. You don’t have to do what your head says. But what does your heart say?”

Hillary was silent for a moment. And that moment stretched, and stretched while she thought it out. She thought back to her experiences with Mark when she had lived in D.C.. She thought of all the time they had spent together on the weekends. She not only knew him, she trusted him. And she knew him well enough to say that he wouldn’t do something she knew was so wrong--that he would have known was wrong.

She looked up at him and said, “All right, then. I’ll trust you.” 

“See, that wasn’t so hard?” Mark smiled at her.

A part of her still doubted. A part of her still expected that at any moment he would come out and say that it was all a joke, that their entire friendship was a joke. And she was afraid that she would always have to live with that.

“Just don’t worry about it,” said Mark. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Sure.” Hillary buried herself in his arms. He patted her on the back.

“You see? You feel better already, don’t you. You know, I’m convinced that nobody ever gets enough hugs. And if every person got more hugs than they do now, I’m pretty sure   
that the world would have fewer problems. People get more hugs, then they’re happier, and then they’re more likely to do the right thing.” 

“Because physical touch is good for you,” said Hillary.

“That’s right. Are you quoting somebody on that?”

“Oh, just something someone said.”

“Right, well, whatever.” Mark let go of Hillary and sat back on the couch. “I’m really sorry to hear about that, a guy breaking into your house. Is your family doing all right?”

“Yes, they’re all right. But Mom and Dad had to ask none of my siblings to come over this week, and the police are over here day and night. They’ve already searched dad’s garage and they’re keeping that under surveillance, too. They don’t complain, but it’s been really stressful.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to help?” asked Mark. “You know, come to think of it, there has been some suspicious stuff going on at my work.”

“Really?”

“Can I give you names?”

“Yes, please.” Hillary whipped out her phone and opened the notepad app. 

“Well, I mean, I just started working there, but I’ve seen things. The branch manager guys, Wilson White and Larry Schwartz, they take really long lunch breaks. They rarely come out of the office to mingle--which is strange, because usually a manager would take more interest in their workers.”

“Yeah,” said Hillary. “We already know about White and Schwartz--they’re working under assumed names. They’ve been Hydra’s ringleaders in the area for years.”

“You don’t say,” said Mark. 

“Do they interact with anybody?”

“They pop in to Mrs. Greene’s office a lot but I think they’re just buttering her up. I saw Schwartz talking to one of the buyers, Rachel Wettin, the other day. It seemed like a trivial matter, asking her to bring them her totals sooner, but then Schwartz slipped a piece of paper into her file. I don’t think it was related to totals.”

“Oh.”

Mark kept rattling off names and lists of instances that he thought were significant. None of them, it seemed, involved his coworkers in the accounting room, except for when it was something he’d overheard them talking about. She was particularly interested to hear about what happened during lunch breaks. Mark said he saw Schwartz and White going into the garage during lunch most days but never driving out to eat. He had seen the suspicious persons he had already listed going down to the garage with them every so often, or staying late at work or arriving early. 

“I didn’t know any of it was a conspiracy,” said Mark. “It didn’t feel right, but I had no idea what was going on.”

“Well, thank you for sharing with me, Mark,” said Hillary.

Mark shook his head. “That’s terrible, though. I was really starting to like working for this company. But I’m not sure I want to work for them, if they’re letting these kinds of   
people use us.”

“I understand,” said Hillary. “I really thought about quitting S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while after I found out about Hydra.”

“Then why did you stay?”

Hillary looked away for a moment. Then she said, “Because I felt like I was where I needed to be. My supervisors knew I was upset by what happened, and they offered me a position at our office in Tempe. And now I’m working for the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. And I’ve really been able to make a difference wherever I’m at.”

“That’s wonderful, Hillary,” said Mark. “So what’s S.H.I.E.L.D. planning to do, now that they’ve found out that my company’s been taken over by Hydra?”

“Well, tomorrow night, we’re going to take out the base.”

“Take it out? You mean, with force?”

“Yep. That’s what it’s come to,” said Hillary. “I might not actually be involved in the fighting. But if I am, it’s not likely that I’ll come back.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Mark laughed, “then I’m glad I came over so we could have this little chat, and catch up.”

“Yeah, right,” said Hillary. 

“So they’ll be going after the people on the wanted list I just gave you, but how about my other coworkers?”

“Well, if I were you, I’d tell them to leave as soon as possible after work tomorrow night. And you stay out of the way, too. It could get really nasty. Bombs and motion-sensor   
traps and all kinds of things. We’re bringing in the SWAT team, because we think there’s a strong chance they will have reinforcements. They won’t blow up the building, but there’s a strong chance that the business park will no longer have covered parking.”

“Well, that’ll suck,” said Mark. “But I guess it’s time to brush up my resume.”

Hillary smiled.

“Well, I guess if you’re still smiling, then the world hasn’t ended.”

“Not yet it hasn’t.”

Mitch looked at the clock. “Well, it’s getting late. I should probably go. And you’ve got another long day ahead of you.”

“If we’re all gonna die tomorrow I wonder if Coulson doesn’t just call us and say we can go ahead and sleep in.”

Mark and Hillary stood up. “Well, thank you, Mark, for coming over. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” said Mark. “Can I get another hug?”

Hillary embraced him warmly.

“I promise I won’t stay too long after work tomorrow,” said Mark. “Can I tell my coworkers what’s happening?”

“No, but you can tell them it might be a good idea to go home early. And don’t mention it to anyone you don’t trust.”

“All right. I will do that. Thank you.” He opened the front door. It took some effort, with its near-total disuse. “Oh, and by the way, if you’re not dead after tomorrow evening,   
would you like to go to the Mesa Easter Pageant sometime? I’ve never been. And now that I live here and all--”

Hillary laughed. “Of course. It’ll depend on my work schedule, obviously. I’m usually out of town but I think I can arrange to be home sometime.”

“You will?”

“Yes. I’ll let you know when.”

“Good. But first text me after tomorrow night and let me know you’re okay. I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna need it.”

“Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He walked down the front walk to his car. Hillary closed the front door and locked it again as she heard the engine starting up.

She leaned against the door for a moment. He had just asked her on a date. She hadn’t been on a date in...a very long time.

Did he like her?

But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. 

The interview had gone very well. A part of her still doubted, but she put aside those doubts for now as well. She would find out soon enough. But for the most part she was   
convinced that Mark was innocent of any wrongdoing. He had given her plenty of information. Was someone working for Hydra more likely to pin the blame on others first or last? His explanation and behavior made sense. 

And she felt right about it. She was afraid, still, but she could shoulder her fears. 

Natasha was wrong: there was a way she could know. She could always know in her heart.

Hillary, however, did text Coulson:

Hillary: Hey, Coulson, since we’re probably gonna die tomorrow, can we sleep in?

Coulson: Until such a time as the world ends, we will proceed as though it continues to go on spinning. 

Hillary: Nick Fury used to say that, I hear.

Coulson: Exactly. I will still expect to see you at a quarter to eight tomorrow. Now go to bed.

Hillary: You need to come up with your own catchphrase

 

At two in the morning, Jo Tanner was still lying awake. Her daughter hadn’t said much, but she knew that the situation with Hydra was a lot more dire than Hillary was allowed to talk about. 

She was starting to miss seeing her children and grandchildren. With the house under police surveillance, Mike and Susan and Jon and Marie and even Greg and Julia were not as eager to come over. They had been appalled to hear about the man being found dead in their backyard and kept their distance, lest their own families were in similar danger. And Susan and Marie and Julia didn’t text Jo very often. Jo needed to know how they were doing just so she could have some normalcy in her life--the last week had been a huge disruption in her routine. True, she went to the grocery store and her church meetings as usual, but there was a gloom over the house. A gloom of absence. It was partly because the grandchildren hadn’t come over at all during the week. Whether or not Hydra had threatened her siblings or if S.H.I.E.L.D. was looking after them, Hillary didn’t say, and Jo didn’t want to ask.

And Jo realized, of course, it was because Bucky had left them. He had come over when Hillary had come home sick the previous week and stayed with her during her recovery. So he had been around a lot more than usual. And it was different because he wasn’t at the garage. He was far away. There was no cell phone service at her brother-in-law’s cabin, so she couldn’t just call to see if he was okay. But she missed him--he was so helpful around the house. He was a bit of a smart aleck at times but he had a good heart. And he was just nice to have around.

It pained her that so many terrible things were happening around Mesa because he was there, and that he’d had to leave because of it. Could the poor boy ever find any rest? Any place he could stay without trouble following him?

But Jo reassured herself that it would all be over soon. Hillary and S.H.I.E.L.D. would take care of the Hydra operatives lurking in their area. They would put all to rights, and Bucky would come back to them--he would come home. And maybe, when the time was right, his old friend Steve Rogers would find him here, waiting...

 

Hillary was awake and ready to leave for work at the same time her father was. Coulson sent her a text saying to bring her combat uniform. So she had that in her black S.H.I.E.L.D. duffel bag over her shoulder as she gave both of her parents an extra hug and a kiss goodbye. She texted her brothers Mike and Jon and even had a brief phone conversation with Julia on the drive to work.


	13. Beauty Within

The sun came up in Payson much the same way as it had the previous morning, a pink sky and silver clouds over the forest. And there was a deeper chill in the air than had been there the previous day.

Bucky leaned on the side of the kitchen door and looked out at the forest. He watched the shadows under the trees, wondering if the nightmares he had seen in his sleep the last two nights lurked there. But there wasn’t a soul in sight, foe or friend. 

A friendly face would have been welcome about then. He wondered how Hillary was doing, if she and S.H.I.E.L.D. had figured out where Hydra was hiding yet and stomped them out. Was she okay? Had S.H.I.E.L.D. gotten into any violent confrontations?

He would like to have offered his help, if he was honest with himself. But then S.H.I.E.L.D. would have been on top of him, and Steve Rogers would have followed.

Steve Rogers: the man he couldn’t face again.

Why couldn’t he just leave him alone?

“Hey, Bucky, you want some hot chocolate?” Kenny called from the kitchen.

Bucky turned inside. He accepted a mug gratefully and drank. He went back to looking at the forest. He savored the sensation of sipping the hot liquid while feeling the cold on his face.

Kenny Tanner was alright company. He went ahead and kept doing his own thing while Bucky silently went his own way. He didn’t ask questions or try to make too much unnecessary chatter. Bucky got the feeling that Kenny needed a break from the noise anyway. He’d caught Kenny staring at the metal arm a few times, but he let didn’t let it bother him.

After breakfast, Kenny announced that he was going to town.

“Do you want to come with?” he asked. 

“No thank you,” said Bucky.

“All right, then. There’s plenty to entertain you. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the DVD player.”

Kenny went upstairs to get his things. Bucky went to the living room and sat down. Ace the dog followed him and sat on the floor at Bucky’s feet--though the dog was so large  
that sitting up his head came well over Bucky’s knees. Bucky gave the dog some very generous rubbing on the head and around the ears. A part of him would have liked Ace to stay and keep him company. But when Kenny came back downstairs, Ace leapt up and followed his master to the kitchen door.

“You wanna come with me, buddy?” asked Kenny eagerly. Ace panted and stared up at him excitedly. “Huh, you wanna go for a ride?”

He looked over at Bucky.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” said Bucky.

“I shouldn’t be too long,” said Kenny. “I’ll be back in time for lunch.”

Kenny and Ace stepped out the door and Kenny closed it behind them.

 

Bucky spent most of the time he was alone sitting in the living room. Through the windows, he saw the gray clouds drift over the sky until it covered it completely.  
He occupied himself staring at Kenny’s family photos. And he sat and tried to remember the family he may once have had. All he had to go on was a dream he’d had around Christmastime. But he had no way of knowing if there was any truth to it, or to anything he saw in his sleep or his mind that wasn’t a blood-soaked nightmare.

Chances were, Steve Rogers had the answers. But Bucky wasn’t about to ask.

He decided to watch a movie. There was a decent selection of movies in the small entertainment center, mostly Disney titles. One of them was Beauty and the Beast. He knew that it was based off a fairy tale, and though he hardly remembered the stories he had heard growing up he thought maybe it would be worth a shot to try and jog his memory.  
As he started to watch the film, he found he wasn’t remembering anything from his past about a fairytale of the same name. But he found a lot of parallels to the life that he had now. Of course the Beast reminded him of himself a little--of being too strong and vicious for his own good--and maybe his rapport with Belle reminded Bucky a little (too much) of how he sometimes quarreled with Hillary. And maybe there was some common feeling there between Hillary reluctantly letting her family take him in and the Beast keeping Belle as a hostage. 

Right after the ball scene, Bucky heard the rumbling of the truck engine outside, and not half a minute later Kenny stepped inside carrying a brown paper bag from a hardware store and Ace yipping at his heels.

“What are you watching?” asked Kenny, not being able to see the television from the kitchen.

“Beauty and the Beast.”

“Oh, really?” said Kenny. “That’s a fun one. Did Hillary ever tell you that her school did Beauty and the Beast as a play?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, as a matter of fact,” said Kenny, “she left the DVD highlights up here--brought it up once for a family reunion and forgot to take it home. You can watch it if you like when  
you’re done.” 

“So this is also a play? Like on the stage?” asked Bucky.

“Yeah. Disney produced a version for Broadway--a couple of extra songs, lots of lights and special effects. And they also released a version for the high school stage.”

“And who did Hillary play?”

“Belle.”

Bucky nodded. “She must’ve been perfect for that part.”

“Oh, she was. I saw it twice when she performed it.”

“Cool.”

Kenny didn’t interrupt Bucky again for the remainder of the film, and it was a good thing since Bucky was so absorbed in trying to watch the ending. 

The end credits came on. “You said there was a DVD of Hillary performing as Belle?” Bucky asked Kenny.

“Yes. It should be on the shelf with the other DVDs.”

Bucky pressed stop on the DVD player but went to search for the one with Hillary. It turned out to be in one of the blank cases stuck on the end of the shelf. The case was see-  
through, and written in permanent marker on the disc was “Beauty and the Beast, ____ High School 20__, highlights from the performance.”  
He took out the disc for the movie and put in the homemade one.

There was a menu with moving images of different song tracks, but he hit the play button on the DVD to play them all.

The first showed the scene where Belle, played by a younger Hillary Tanner, arrived in the Beast’s castle. The sets were made of cardboard and wood to look like the walls and furniture. The Beast was an actor wearing silky robes and an enormous, hairy mask. And Hillary’s dress looked very much like Belle’s in the animated version. 

When the Beast had exited, Hillary knelt down by the side of the bed and pretended to cry for a moment--though it looked very realistic. But then she sat up. And she started to sing a solo. The prelude expressed Belle’s resignation and her anger with the Beast. And then the main part began:

Is this home?  
Is this where I must learn to be happy?  
Never dreamed  
That a home could be dark and cold.  
I was taught  
every day of my childhood, even when we grow old:  
Home will be where the heart is,  
never were words so true.  
My heart’s far, far away,  
home is too.

The song was beautiful and moving and rose to a stirring crescendo after the interlude, and then ended quietly. Belle, played by Hillary, contemplated the difficulty of her situation through the music and expressed her resistance to the Beast’s will.

The video ended. The next video started with the Beast barging in on Belle when she had broken into the West Wing and her running away after that. But there was no rush to the woods nor a fight with the wolves--but that was understandable, considering how difficult it would be to adapt that on the stage. But the Beast sang a solo after she had gone, expressing his despair with the curse he had been forced to live under for so long.” The next two videos were of the chorus, dressed as French peasants singing “Gaston,” and then as dishes and furniture for “Be Our Guest.” The last video, however, was of the Beast’s death scene. As he lay dying, Belle, crouched over his fallen form, sang a reprise to her solo from earlier. 

We are home  
We are where we shall be forever  
Trust in me  
For you know I won’t run away  
From today  
This is all that I need  
And all that I need to say is...  
Don't you know how you've changed me  
Strange how I fin'lly see  
I found home  
You're my home  
Stay with me

Bucky almost didn’t want it to end. But then there was a great deal of smoke and strobe lights, and the actor playing the Beast emerged from under the mask--well, he wasn’t bad looking. Then the chorus came out on the stage, removed from their cumbersome costumes to show how they had been freed from the curse as well. And then Belle came out in her yellow ball gown--Hillary looked magnificent, Bucky thought. They sang a final chorus to “Beauty and the Beast” and danced on the stage, and then the cast took their bows. The audience in the video was ecstatic.

Kenny had gone back outside to do some work on the porch, but he returned just as Bucky was putting the DVD away.

“How was it?” he asked.

“That was amazing,” said Bucky, breathless. But “amazing” didn’t begin to describe just how moved he had been.

Then he noticed that Kenny had left the door open. He heard Ace barking. “Kenny, what’s going on outside?”

“Oh, it’s snowing. Ace is going crazy because he doesn’t see falling snowflakes that often.”

“Snowing? I thought it didn’t snow in Arizona.” Bucky got up and moved to the kitchen door. Kenny went with him.

“Oh, it snows plenty in Arizona--but only in the higher-up places like here.”

Bucky leaned against the door post. Ace was running around the yard, barking and jumping up at the feathery white snowflakes floating through the air. The snow didn’t come  
down straight, even though there wasn’t a breeze to blow them. There was a big cluster off to one side that blew to the left, while another moved to the right and then swung back around to the center. It was mesmerizing to watch. He was reminded of a snow globe that the Tanners had on their mantle. 

“Will it stick?” asked Bucky.

“It’s dry enough. It probably should. But I’m not sure how much we’re getting. That’s the trouble with coming out to a place like this that doesn’t have internet: you don’t get accurate weather reports when you want them.”

“How long has it been doing this?”

“Just a few minutes. But I’m not sure how long it’ll go for.”

“It’s actually not that cold right now,” said Bucky.

“No, it’s usually not terribly cold while it snows,” Kenny explained. “But when it’s done snowing, though, is when it can freeze really hard.” 

He watched. The big clumps of snow falling from the sky were pretty enough. But if enough of them piled up, there would be heaps of snow everywhere. And ice.

“Will we get stuck up here?”

“I think we should be fine,” said Kenny. “My truck’s got four-wheel drive, it’s seen bigger storms than this up in Utah. Just as long as the highway patrol keeps the roads clear, and that shouldn’t be a problem if they start right away. If they got a snowfall like this in Mesa it would be the end of the world. But in Payson, they’re a little more prepared.”  
After a few more minutes of watching the snow fall, Kenny called Ace back inside. Ace rushed back up to the porch with a thick powder of snowflakes on his black coat. He was  
cold and even after he had shaken himself he was still wet, but the dog looked pretty pleased with himself.

Kenny cranked up the thermostat and started cooking lunch, which was chicken noodle soup from some of the cans in the pantry. Then after they had finished lunch, Kenny and Bucky went to get the wood that they had stashed in the garage. Kenny showed Bucky how to chop the wood into smaller logs and to make kindling, and they carried these into the living room. Bucky got some splinters and twigs stuck in his metal arm, but it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. They would come out later. In the living room fireplace, they built a fire. Kenny put the match to the fuel. In a few minutes the kindling and smaller logs were ablaze, and about an hour later they had a real fire going.

Kenny plopped down on the couch and took a nap. Ace laid down on the floor beside his master and slept as well.

Bucky sat on the couch across the living room from the fireplace and stared at the flames. Sometimes he glanced out the window and watched as the world slowly turned white outside. 

Watching Beauty and the Beast had given him a lot to think about. And Hillary’s solo from the stage version was stuck in his head.

He felt like he had an inkling of what Hillary had to put up with, letting her family keep him. And this week he had realized that she had really gone to a lot of trouble to hide him from S.H.I.E.L.D.. It would have been so much easier just to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. that he was there, that he was the reason that Hydra was resurging. But because he had asked her not to say anything, as far as he could tell Hillary had convinced them that the Winter Soldier wasn’t at all involved.

Hillary had done it at first because her parents wanted to help him. But from what he had been able to tell the last time they had met, Hillary was now doing it for herself. Because he was her friend.

Hillary had been determined to send him away and tell Steve Rogers she had found him the moment he showed up on the Tanners’ doorstep last fall. She had been so irritated that her father had welcomed him into their home. How had it come to this? How had their relationship changed? Had she, like Belle for the Beast, learned to love him?

Was ‘love’ really the right word?

One thing was for sure, Hillary wanted to hide him now--that she would not tell Steve Rogers, who was a good friend of hers, by all accounts--that she was hiding his best friend at her home, that was her choice. And that was a big thing for him. And there were the small things, too: when he texted her when she was away, she would text him back. She would play music for him on the piano when she came home to visit. And on this last visit, she had nagged him less about his past and she had done more to enjoy spending time with him--true, being ill had taken the edge off her temper, but maybe it was something else. And when the Hydra spy had been caught in their backyard, and when he had snuck back to the Tanners on Tuesday evening, Hillary had been anxious for his safety. What was more, both times when he had said goodbye to her, she had seemed unwilling to part from him. She really wanted him to be safe and happy as much as Jo and Trey did.

And how did he feel? It was a feeling of indebtedness, mostly. Hillary and her parents had done much more for Bucky than he could ever hope to repay. He did want for them to be safe. He didn’t wish them to be suffering for the consequences of taking him in as they were suffering now. It wasn’t fair that Hydra had to target the people who were helping him out.

If he wanted to run away, it was only because he wanted to keep these good people from getting hurt. But he knew that, as much as they cared about him, it would break their hearts to see him go--the same way it broke their hearts to send him into hiding in this emergency. And it would hurt him just as much if he left. They didn’t care about the consequences of helping him...well, they hadn’t before. Maybe they did now that Hydra knew where they lived. But if they still wanted him, he promised himself he would let them have him. How long that would last, he didn’t know. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long. 

The Tanners were the closest thing he had to a real family. No matter how Hydra threatened them, he was safe with them. No matter what was wrong with himself, their love for him was something he could depend on. He didn’t want to let them down. Their home was his home. And Hillary was his friend.  
He glanced out the window again. The snow was piling up considerably now.

There came a small crashing noise from the fireplace. Bucky went over and rearranged the logs with a poker. Then he put a new big log and some kindling on top of the fire.  
Beauty and the Beast was Hillary’s story. Star Wars had been Emily Bridger’s.

What had happened to Emily, though? Hillary talked about her like she was no longer around.

When Kenny woke from his nap, it was still snowing outside, and hard. He wanted to take Ace for a walk. He asked Bucky if he wanted to come. Bucky wasn’t sure. The window panes were freezing. He didn’t want to go out there where it was so cold and dark. But he wasn’t too keen on being left inside the house either.

Well, it wouldn’t kill him.

“All right, I’ll come.”

“Bundle up, then.”

He put on his jacket over his ugly ASU sweater and tucked the yellow scarf around his neck. The ball cap went on top. Kenny was wearing his own jacket and had produced a square, furry hat. Bucky wondered if Ace needed anything for the cold.

Too often, the Winter Soldier had earned his name by making his attacks in snowy, remote forests like these. The walk brought back a lot of painful memories. He wished--and  
he didn’t wish this often--it would be easier to remember a time before all this--a time before Hydra and a metal arm. 

But he didn’t say any of this to Kenny. Kenny made small talk with him about the snowmobile he had owned years and years ago, about people he’d brought up to play in the snow during Christmas and New Year’s holidays. Hillary was in a few of these stories. And some of the stories were funny, and Bucky had to laugh aloud on hearing them.  
“Some people think it’s ironic that Arizona gets any snow at all,” Kenny commented. “But I’d say it’s as good a snow as Utah or Colorado or anywhere else. But there’s a lot of ironic things about a place, once you get to know it.”

“But you’ve lived here your whole life, haven’t you?”

“I have, so I’m probably biased. I did spend a few years traveling around, working. So I’ve seen enough to know what the rest of the world’s like. How about you? You been a lot of places?”

“Here and there,” said Bucky. He gave a small shrug. “Lots of places. I’ve been to too many places I’d rather forget...and probably a few I wish I could remember.” Lost in thought, he stared out at the ponderosa pines. And then he caught himself. “And especially in the last year, I’ve been travelling around the states a lot.”

“Oh really, what for? Trying to find work?”

“More like trying to get away from people.”

Kenny nodded, and they walked on. They followed the circuit made by the trail that Bucky and Ace had used the previous day. It wasn’t visible under the snowfall except for where the fallen debris that marked it stuck out of the snow. It had snowed three or four inches in the last two hours and it was still coming down. It didn’t drift like it had earlier so much as fall straight onto them. Ace still barked and snapped at the snowflakes occasionally but mostly ran through the forest trying to clear the snow-covered obstacles, keeping his distance from the two humans. 

Bucky was kind of mad at himself. The main reason he avoided going to Denver or anywhere else further north was to avoid this kind of weather. But a beautiful day like today, with the snow falling gently around him, not deep enough to bury him or trap him, able to walk and talk quietly through the forest with a friend and not have to kill anyone--that sort of thing didn’t need an excuse, he reckoned. He talked aloud to Kenny about his work at the garage. The cold got in his throat, and numbed his nose and cheeks. His ragged tennis shoes were wet and the ragged bottoms of his jeans were soaked. The jeans were the only layer covering his legs so they were cold. He kept both of his hands thrust inside his pocket because they both would get cold really fast if left outside, especially the metal one. But he knew he had a place to go later where he could shed his wet clothes and warm himself. 

You know, he thought to himself, a homeless guy like me shouldn’t normally have these kinds of luxuries. And then he was surprised with himself because he was thinking of himself as a homeless guy rather than an ex-assassin.

Then maybe he wasn’t homeless, at least for the time being. Maybe he had a home.

“You know, my son Dennis is about your age,” said Kenny, interrupting his thoughts.

Bucky snickered. “How old do you think I am?”

“Thirty-something.”

Bucky snickered again. “All right, then. How old is your son?”

“Thirty-two. And he’s married and has two kids. He’s got a job as a web developer for a major corporation. Lives in California. But I guess you’re not too bad off yourself.”

“Hmph.” Bucky wasn’t sure what Kenny meant by the comparison. If people of an age that Bucky was pretending to be were succeeding in life, then how was he supposed to  
achieve the same? He had a metal arm and a record as an assassin, neither of which he could ever completely escape--that was the reason he was up here at this cabin at all.

The truth of the matter was, even if he had been a normal person once, he wasn’t one now. He could accept hospitality and kindness all he wanted, but he could never be like the people who were trying to help him. He could never have what they had. He could never have a spouse and children and a house and a car and a real job with benefits...he couldn’t have any of the things that society dictated that only successful people could have.

Or could he?

The cabin, with the snow covering the roof and the smoke trailing out of the chimney, looked so very inviting. As he and Kenny came up the porch steps the snow shook off their shoes with the thud of their footsteps. Once inside, they brushed the snow off their jackets and hats--Bucky found that the brim of his hat had accumulated some snow. He had to smile as he brushed it off. His hair was also a little wet. It was a relief to be inside where the heater was running. He took off the jacket and sweater and went upstairs to put on a dry pair of jeans. Then he came back down to stoke up the fire. He sat in front of it to warm his back, and then Kenny gave him a mug of hot chocolate.  
As he finished it, though, he had a thought: here am I cozy and snug in Uncle Kenny’s cabin, I’ve got a roaring fire and hot chocolate and plenty of time to relax. Hillary’s probably off somewhere fighting Hydra, and she’s probably going to get herself killed. And for me.

The thought stayed with him all afternoon. He spent part of it lying on the floor in front of the fire next to Ace, wrapped in a blanket. When it became dark outside, Kenny suggested that they try a family tradition of his for their dinner: roasting hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire in the fireplace. Kenny prepared the hot dogs and roasting sticks, and he brought these into the living room along with plates, condiments and buns. Kenny cooked an extra hot dog and gave it to Ace, who snarfed it gratefully. Bucky’s first hot dog came out slightly burnt, but it still tasted meaty and juicy. Kenny entertained him with stories about his children.

“If you don’t mind me asking, though,” said Kenny at one point, “where did you come from? I mean, whatever happened to your family?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head. “That’s a good question. I couldn’t tell you where I was from, much less where I’m going.”

“Trey says you’re heading up to Denver in the spring.”

“Yeah. Well, we’ll see if there’s anything there for me if I get there.”

They each ate two hot dogs apiece, each loaded with mustard and ketchup and dill relish. And then Kenny showed Bucky how to roast a marshmallow for s’mores. Bucky burned his first two attempts. “I guess I burn everything,” he said with a dark chuckle, hoping Kenny wouldn’t guess what it meant.

“That’s okay,” said Kenny as he helped Bucky stick a new marshmallow onto his roasting stick. “You just keep on trying.” 

Maybe it was another grim metaphor for a life already filled with strange signs, allegories, and symbols. For a few long minutes he concentrated on holding the marshmallow at just the right spot. Kenny helped him to assemble the s’more. Bucky realized too late he should have thought twice about using the metal hand to eat the s’more with--the joints got all covered with hot, sticky marshmallow. Bucky tried licking it but the metal tasted bitter, so he told himself he would wash it off later. For now he would just enjoy sitting next to the fire. 

I don’t have to burn everything, he thought. I don’t have to destroy everything I touch. True, there would be some things that someone like him would have to go without. But he could have a family to belong to. That would be enough.

But how much can I have? he wondered. How much of a life could I make for myself, before anyone stopped me? 

Just how limitless were the possibilities?


	14. S.H.I.E.L.D. Strikes Back

Hillary looked over at Marcie Johnson, who was standing next to her.

“Do you remember that one time way back when, right before I started working with Coulson, and I asked you to look after my family?”

“Yes, I do,” said Marcie. 

Hillary smirked in the darkness. It didn’t need saying that neither of them had thought that Hillary’s request would have lead to this. 

“I remember you saying you wished you could be back in the field. Well, your leg’s all better now, and here you are back in the field.”

Marcie chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I should be careful what I wish for.”

Hillary laughed quietly. That hadn’t really needed saying either.

The Tempe S.H.I.E.L.D. team was in the bushes behind Building 4, watching the far side of the parking garage. They had been in position since dusk. They had walked there, dressed in all black and carrying loaded handguns and ammo, from a few blocks away, ducking and scurrying and weaving across the urban jungle. The SWAT team was behind the building and out of sight. 

At the moment, there were a few cars inside the garage and a few parked outside it around the business complex. They had only seen a few people in dark clothing moving around but nothing significant. 

Barton and Romanoff had arrived separate from the S.H.I.E.L.D. team. Any moment now, they would be in position. The firestorm would begin.

Clearly, her fellow agents were thinking the same thing as they watched the parking garage expectantly.

“This’ll be fun to watch,” Agent Swill said quietly.

Apprently he hadn’t been too quiet.

“Swill, keep it down!” hissed Parsons over the radio.

“Sorry.”

Hillary looked over her shoulder. Coulson was standing by the corner of the building with Mitch where he could signal the SWAT team. The night was starless and there was  
hardly a breeze. Clouds had moved in from the north during the afternoon. The weather forecasts promised rain, but they all hoped that it would hold off until after the operation was over--but when that would be, no one had a clue. If things went well, it would take only a few minutes. And if they didn’t...Hillary was trying not to think about that.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had intercepted two more Hydra emails that afternoon. One indicated that Hydra knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. had infiltrated their base of operations the previous day. Another said that Base B still needed to be held at all costs, and that Lambda--meaning reinforcements--was on its way. Where Lambda was, or who they were, or how many they were bringing, still remained anyone’s guess. And it bothered her that they didn’t know when Lambda was arriving. The longer that Black Widow and Hawkeye waited to make their move, the longer they risked being caught by Hydra’s reinforcements. 

Hillary didn’t complain about the black combat gear that Parsons had asked them to wear on this assignment. The outfit included black tennis shoes, long black pants and shirts, black beanie caps, and bulletproof vests. Agents Clay and Swill had suggested that they paint their faces, too, but Parsons had shot down the idea: they didn’t need to make it too obvious. As long as they crouched low and kept their faces down, they blended into the shadows away from the streetlamps. Hillary was just glad that it wasn’t as ridiculous as the outfit she had worn the last time she visited this place. 

“I think I see something,” whispered Clay.

“Where at?” asked Kearns.

“Wait a moment...maybe it was a shadow,” said Clay, convinced he hadn’t seen anything.

Hillary just wanted this to be over with. Despite Coulson’s reassurances that S.H.I.E.L.D. was only going to be there for when the fighting was over, Hillary wasn’t eager for the part where they risked being caught in the crossfire. She had a gun and she knew how to use it..but she didn’t want to be asked to pull it out.

Could she do it? Could she take a human life if necessary? Even if it was someone she didn’t know, someone who was trying to kill her and everyone she loved, was it still justified? 

Those questions had haunted her since last April, when the people she thought she had known turned against her, and when she had come very close to having to actually use a weapon.

But she knew she might not have a choice. Every sign indicated that Hydra wanted her dead and S.H.I.E.L.D. destroyed. Last April, with the botched launching of Insight, everything that Hillary cared about had come so close to being taken away from her. She did not want Hydra to get that close ever again. So she spent those silent minutes praying and waiting.

 

Clint Barton was in position from the roof of Building 3. He saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in their hiding places. He also saw the Hydra sympathizers moving back and forth in the shadows in the garage. At the rate things were going, Hydra probably knew they were there--they were waiting for S.H.I.E.L.D. to make the first move. So Barton figured that they would do just that. But first he wanted the signal from Natasha.

Across from him was the parking garage. There were street lamps surrounding it and bathing the concrete sides in a dull yellow glow. But there was only one lamp on the western side where the entrance to the parking lot was. Just beyond its reach, he saw a figure in black crawling slowly upward in the shadows. The figure made a quick leap over the gap between the parking garage levels. Then after holding still for a minute, she crawled upward over the edge of the roof. She wasn’t more than a faint movement on the dark surface. But he saw her arm reach up and then click something that gave off a light.

“We are code green,” came Natasha’s voice in the radio. “We are good to go. Go!”

Barton stood up. He drew an arrow from his quiver. Sticking it in a certain gadget, he plugged in an explosive arrowhead and then stuck it onto his bow. He pulled back as far as he could reach. There was no breeze. When he let go, the arrow slipped down across the parking lot to the space between the first floor side barrier and roof.  
The arrow disappeared. And then there was an explosion. He could see the fire from it from his position, and also hear the noise and the screaming from inside the parking garage. He heard a man yelling orders. 

“Your turn,” he said to Natasha.

Natasha obliged. On the roof of the garage, she threw a grenade to the far side of the roof from where she stood. The explosion blew a hole in the roof. She ran to the edge of the hole and dropped another explosive. There was a hole in the second floor now. With the three explosives, there was now a smoke-filled passageway down to the basement--into the very heart of Hydra’s base. She rigged her zipline and began to descend into the inferno. She had both of her guns drawn and she fired in whatever direction she heard a scream from. 

She heard alarms going off on either side of her. She swung to one side on the first floor and started shooting the mechanical implants on the walls--the thermal traps and the security cameras. And of course, the Hydra people began to rally and shoot at her. She fought a few of them hand-to-hand for a moment, then ran to the first floor barrier, climbed up the side, and then with her grappling hook swung back up to the second floor.

“I’ve blown a way in,” said Natasha to her radio.

“Good,” said Director Coulson. “You keep dismantling their security system. Barton, you keep them from getting out.”

“Of course, sir,” said Barton from the roof. “But of course, your team may want to find a different place to hide now.” There were people coming out of the manholes in the parking lot. He started firing arrows at them. 

“Do we move now, sir?” asked Agent Parsons.

“Now, we move in,” said Coulson. “Guns at the ready. Shoot to disarm or to maim, but not to kill.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved forward from their hiding place and started to spread out around the parking lot. There were a few people fleeing from the burning parking garage, and most were unpleasantly surprised to see the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Hillary and Marcie took a man each and, fighting briefly hand-to-hand, knocked them out and put them in handcuffs. Hillary was starting to think this might be too easy.

“Don’t let them take their cyanide,” Coulson reminded them. “Into their mouths before they pop it.”

It was too late for the man Hillary had caught, but Marcie had forced open the mouth of her prisoner and taken out a small capsule from between his teeth.

“Thought you were gonna pull a fast one on me, weren’t ya?” asked Marcie cheekily.

“What do we do with them?” asked Hillary as she helped Marcie fit her capture with handcuffs.

“Leave them right there for now,” said Coulson through the radio. “I’ll have the SWAT team take them away.”

“Got it,” said Hillary. She and Marcie walked across the parking lot to help Agent Clay with an arrest. Hillary was under the impression that the whole affair was a weird game of  
capture the flag.

“Looks like somebody else is here,” said Barton over the radio. The agents looked up and saw two black trucks cruising into the parking lot. Hillary barely saw the window of one of them starting to roll down when Parsons shouted, “GET DOWN! TAKE COVER!”

Then there were gunshots ringing across the parking lot. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents scattered. People dressed in black came out of the vehicles, all armed with large rifles. Hillary ducked first with Marcie, and then they ran across the parking lot, miraculously without getting shot, and ducked behind a bush. 

“Over here, the trash can,” said Marcie. She and Hillary moved to the trash can by the door of Building 2. The noise of whizzing bullets and crashing glass was deafening. They started shooting at the new arrivals from behind the trash can, though Hillary felt it was barely enough protection for the two of them. Coulson called for the SWAT team. They came in with guns, batons, and plastic shields. The parking lot was chaos.

“Barton, get down here!” Coulson shouted as he began fighting hand-to-hand with one of the Hydra agents.

“On my way,” said Barton. He let off a couple more arrows. Then he used an arrow to attach to a grappling hook and descended from his perch. He came down firing arrows in every direction, and as the Hydra thugs approached him from all sides he swung his bow at them and fought with his hands and feet.

“Agent Romanoff,” said Coulson.

“Need me to come over and help?” asked Natasha. She was inside the parking garage, kicking a Hydra guy to the face.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the garage. I’m almost in there.” She was mere feet away from the hole in the roof of the basement. A female Hydra officer approached her and they began to fight. Natasha gave her a hard punch to the face, and the female antagonist fell over. “The security system is down.”:

“You stay where you are,” said Coulson. “Get inside as quick as you can and capture the leaders.”

“Roger that. I’ll signal you when I’m inside.” A Hydra agent attacked her with a crowbar. 

Coulson was hiding behind the corner of Building 1. He looked around. “Agent Sorensen, where are you? Agent Sorensen? Mitch?” 

He heard a gasping sound behind him. Mitch was behind him, but huddled against the wall. He breathing heavily and he was nearly in tears. 

Coulson had forgotten that this was Mitch’s first time in a firefight. He crouched down next to Mitch.

“Are you okay, Mitch?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Mitch.

“Are you sure?”

Mitch nodded.

“I can just show you somewhere safe to hide--”

“No, no, I’ve got this,” said Mitch. “I’ve got this.” He clutched his handgun to his chest and turned off the safety.

“Okay,” said Coulson, patting Mitch on the shoulder. “Let’s get going.” He and Mitch came back around the corner. Three Hydra agents were rushing at them at once. All three of them had fallen within seconds.

Hillary and Marcie were moving around the parking lot from place to place, trying to keep the Hydra goons from chasing them. They were running across the rocks in front of Building 2 when they ran into another person in black. All three of them yelled in surprise and then drew their guns at each other.

“Ladies, it’s me!” said Agent Swill.

“Oh, sorry,” said Marcie.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all wearing black,” said Hillary. 

“Get down!” shouted Swill. Over their shoulders he had seen a dark figure approaching. Hillary and Marcie stepped off to one side while Swill shot the Hydra agent. The Hydra agent fell over but shot back. Agent Swill yelled and stumbled backwards, clutching his middle.

“Cory!” shouted Marcie. She propped him against the wall. Hillary leaned over them both.

“It’s okay,” said Swill. “I can look after myself. Keep fighting.” 

Hillary saw a Hydra agent approaching them from the side. He had lowered his weapon. Stepping over Swill, she put her gun away. They started punching and wrestling.  
Hillary had wondered before tonight how out-of-condition she was for this kind of fighting. It took several long, sweaty minutes for her to put down the Hydra guy, and he nearly had her twice. She was probably a lot more out of shape than she had guessed. 

Barton was still fighting guys in the parking lot, letting off arrows at whoever approached him from a distance, hitting people with his fists and his bow if they got too close.

“Just how many of these guys are there, Coulson?”

“Now isn’t a good time to be counting!” Coulson yelled. Across the parking lot, he and Mitch were being backed into a corner by a pair of Hydra thugs. 

Barton could see them. He finished fighting one guy, then let two arrows off at the people antagonizing Coulson and Mitch. 

Coulson was just as surprised as his attackers to see arrows sticking out of their middles. Barton came over to them and pulled out the arrows, wiping them so he could reuse them.

“Thanks,” said Mitch, looking wide-eyed.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” said Barton.

The three of them were approached by a group of Hydra agents. Barton pulled one of the reused arrows onto his bow while Coulson and Mitch cocked their weapons. 

Meanwhile, Natasha still hadn’t reached the entrance to the Hydra base. Hydra kept sending people at her. Some of them were throwing explosives and firearms at her. She was also making good use of her electric staves and stingers.

They just keep coming, she observed. Well, cut off one head, two more take its place. Makes sense.

“Hey Barton, does this remind you of Budapest?”

In the parking lot, Barton notched an arrow to his string, whipped around, and shot a guy coming at him with a heavy assault rifle. “A little bit, yeah. A lot more than New York did.”

Some of the Hydra guys had set up a machine gun in the back of their truck. They were shooting the SWAT team with devastating effect. Hillary and Marcie rallied some of the surviving SWAT members to go after the machine gun team from the rear. They all fell from blows to the head, and a SWAT guy broke one of the machine gun parts. 

Hydra was also using small handheld grenades. Agent Parsons got a bad burn from being too close to one, and Agent Clay, who was with him, was knocked unconscious.

“Coulson, Agent Clay is down, and so is Swill. I don’t think they’re dead, but they’re hurt.”

“The SWAT medics will take care of them,” said Coulson. “The SWAT team is calling for reinforcements, and the local police are on their way.”

“Who’s still in here?” asked Parsons.

“I’m in,” said Kearns.

That news was a huge relief. Hillary slumped behind building 2 to catch her breath. Then she returned to the fight. She ended up punching a female Hydra agent unconscious. She looked a little older than Hillary, and she was blonde. But Hillary wondered if Jamie Sneld was there today, fighting with Hydra.

“Coulson, this is Natasha. I’m going in.” Natasha had emptied the first floor of the parking garage. She jumped into the hole in the basement roof, did a backflip and landed on her feet. She was immediately attacked on all sides, but she dispatched the Hydra agents within a minute.

“Well done, Agent Romanoff, well done,” said a voice to her side. Natasha turned around and saw Carl Wilmer, Jr. He was clapping his hands together slowly and smiling. “Most impressive.”

“You want a show, Wilmer?” she asked him. “I’ll give you one.” She drew one of her electric staves. She swung it at him. Wilmer ducked, but when he got up again she thrust it into his middle. He howled and fell over. “I hope you are duly entertained,” said Natasha. “Whoever else is in here, you better come out with your hands up.” 

There were four other people standing in the corner, all pointing guns at her.

From behind a desk in the dark basement, two people came out, their hands up in surrender. One of them was Max Philips. The other, she recognized from a photo, was Michael Lemicks from the Free Range Party.

“Spit out your cyanide capsules,” said Natasha. “Spit them.” She pointed her pistol at Lemicks, Philips, and Wilmer in turn.

“I don’t have one,” said Lemicks.

“And spitting is just such a disgusting habit,” said Phillips. 

“I’m not a lady,” said Natasha. “Bad manners don’t scare me.” 

“How about frothing at the mouth, huh?” said Wilmer. She heard a pop, and his mouth started foaming. “Does that scare you?”

Natasha said nothing, but kept her gun trained on Philips. 

“Cut off one head,” said Wilmer, “Two more will--.” Natasha shot him. It was a waste of a good bullet, but she didn’t want to hear the Hydra motto repeated anymore. She  
returned the barrel of her gun to Philips.

“Don’t think I won’t cut you off, either,” she said. 

Philips spat his capsule onto the ground. 

“Order your men to stand down.” 

“You and your friends have probably killed most of them.”

“I mean it,” said Natasha.

“Fine then,” said Phillips. He nodded at his security guards in the corner. They lowered their weapons. 

“Coulson, I have the leaders. They’ve surrendered.”

“Good, bring them out,” Coulson answered.

“Where’s the exit?” Natasha asked. 

“Over here,” said Phillips. She nodded her head, and Phillips and Lemicks began to walk towards a door in the back corner of the room, stepping disdainfully over Wilmer’s body.

“All of you, spit out your capsules,” she said to the guards. Three of them spat. One of them looked like he was about to bite his. But when Natasha pulled out her other pistol,  
he spat.

Phillips and his party led Natasha down a short tunnel to a pipe with a ladder going down it. 

“When you get out of there I want your hands up,” said Natasha. “Order the others to stand down and spit out their cyanide capsules. Coulson, order a ceasefire.”

Natasha could hear sirens over her radio--the police had arrived.

Outside, two more SWAT vehicles came and unloaded, and they were followed by a legion of police cars. The newly-arrived SWAT personnel surrounded the Hydra agents. 

“Everyone, hold your fire!” Coulson shouted into his radio. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and SWAT team stood back. Some of the Hydra agents had to be wrestled into submission but  
most of them fell back. 

 

Coulson, Clint, and Mitch rushed over to the manhole. Coulson and Mitch removed the cover. Barton kept his bow drawn as Max Phillips emerged from the manhole. Coulson helped him out onto the pavement.

“Max Phillips, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” said Coulson, shaking his hand.

Phillips looked ready to throw up. 

Phillips got to his feet and held his hands above his head. The other Hydra agents in the parking lot began to raise their hands and take to their knees. A few of them popped  
cyanide capsules before they could be stopped. But Coulson called for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and SWAT team to demand that the capsules be spat out at once. So for a few seconds there was a lot of spitting going on. Agent Kearns got one to the face. He nearly shot the Hydra scum who’d done it, but limited himself to angrily holding the barrel to  
his head. 

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the police took the Hydra antagonists into custody--those that were still alive, anyway. There were about fifty total captured alive aside from the leaders. The police herded most of them into vans. Coulson had Phillips and Lemicks taken in the police chief’s car.

“The area is secure, sir,” said Natasha. “You want to come down?”

“Yeah, let’s go have a look. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, who wants to come with me?”

“I’m staying with Swill and Clay,” said Marcie over the radio.

“Kearns and I are still helping out the police,” said Parsons.

“Come over when you can, Parsons,” said Coulson. “Hillary, you and Mitch get over here.”

Hillary went to join Coulson and Mitch at the manhole cover. Barton went with them. 

The manhole wasn’t terribly narrow. It went down further than they were going, down into the sewer system, but they got off on a side door that led to a short tunnel, and the  
tunnel to the basement beneath the parking garage.

The basement was furnished with plenty of chairs, a table, a microwave and fridge, a desk with a computer on it, and a folding screen. The back wall showed a recently-depleted weapons cache, and boxes of ammunition and explosives. Coulson called for the SWAT team to take the armaments away. Mitch got out his camera phone and started snapping  
pictures. 

“You’ve had your phone on you the entire time?” asked Hillary in disbelief.

“Yeah, I wasn’t counting on it making it,” said Mitch. “But I had it on under the vest. It’s been through worse.”

“So how was it getting in here?” Barton asked Natasha. 

She sighed. “Not too bad.” 

Coulson started to walk back and forth, staring at the floor as he did so.

“So what are you looking for, Boss?” asked Hillary, trying to follow him.

“Trying to figure out where they were going to put all of the equipment for the Asset,” said Coulson. 

“Hm.” There wasn’t a lot of open space down in this basement. “Do you think they would’ve rearranged the furniture?”

“I guess they would’ve,” said Coulson.

“Well, I guess we need to start interrogating these people,” said Mitch. “Maybe we’ll see what they were actually planning.”

Hillary looked at Coulson.

“I need you to come in first thing tomorrow. Eight.”

Eight, got it,” said Hillary.

“Go home and get you some rest,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “You’ve done great today.” 

“Coulson, do you need us to stick around?” asked Barton.

“You guys can go back to the hotel and get some sleep,” said Coulson. “Plan on tomorrow at seven.”

Natasha arched her back and stretched. 

Hillary went back out of the tunnel with them. They helped her to jump across the gap to the ladder and then up onto the pavement.

“You guys got any plans for tonight?” she asked them, partly trying to be conversational.

“Sleep,” said Natasha. “Well, first call Steve, and then sleep.”

“Natasha, it’s one in the morning over where they’re at,” said Clint. “Let it wait.”

“Steve asked me to call as soon as we had it taken care of.”

“We don’t have it taken care of, yet,” said Clint. “We’ve still got to interrogate people in the morning.”

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll wait. Maybe I’ll just send Steve a text.”

“That reminds me,” said Hillary. “Remind me when I get back to headquarters to send someone a text.”

“You can use my phone, if you’ve got the number,” said Clint.

“Nah, it’s fine.” 

Hillary noticed as they walked through the parking lot that there were body bags lying here and there. They went to the SWAT medical tent to check on Agents Swill and Clay.  
Then Hillary got a ride with Marcie back to Tempe. 

When Hillary got to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, she dug in her duffel bag for her cell phone and sent a text to Mark Lawson.

So as it turns out I will be able to go to the Easter Pageant with you. :) 

It was only eleven o’clock at night. Mark texted her back a smiley face.


	15. Closing the Case

Her drive home was long and quiet. She didn’t even feel like turning on the radio, even though it was probably best to take her mind off things for the moment. It had been dark as they had been fighting. She had heard a few screams but she hadn’t seen the blood. She had probably injured a lot of people. Some of the body bags on the pavement were from her. But she wasn’t going to try and search the darkness of her memories for the wounds and the bloodstains. She didn’t want to see them.

When she got home, all of the lights were off. She walked through to put her bag in her bedroom. Then she poked her head into her parents’ bedroom. Her father was sitting up with the reading lamp on.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m home.”

“Glad to see you,” said Trey. He was reading the newspaper.

Jo rolled over in her sleep. “What?” she mumbled.

“It’s Hillary,” said Trey.

“Ugh.” Jo rolled back over.

“Goodnight, Mom and Dad,” said Hillary.

“Goodnight,” said Trey.

Hillary was sweaty. When she peeled off her combat suit she realized that she smelled of sweat, and also blood. She couldn’t see any on her hands or her skin. There were a few suspicious dark patches on her bulletproof vest. She put her combat uniform in the washing machine. Then she took a shower, a long, hot one. 

It wasn’t over yet.

 

Hillary wasn’t able to grab more than a pair of pop tarts for her breakfast the following morning. She heard the water trickling down the roof and grabbed her umbrella before going to work. 

Just as she had last night, she didn’t listen to the car radio on the way into work. 

When she reached the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, Coulson was waiting for her in a black SUV. Parsons, Mitch, and Kearns were already inside it. Hillary joined the carpool.

“Did you get anything to eat?” Coulson asked her.

“Just some pop tarts.”

“Do you wanna stop for drive-through?” asked Coulson.

“Sure.”

“We’ll make it quick. Just sandwiches for everybody,” said Coulson as he pulled them out. “We’re not expected until nine anyway.”

“So how are Swill and Clay doing?” 

“They’ll be all right,” said Kearns. “Clay’s come around. He’s got third-degree burns from that grenade that exploded. Luckily for him it wasn’t worse. And Swill had surgery this   
morning. I promised I’d go visit him for lunch. They’re both at Scottsdale Central Hospital--real ritzy place.”

“And the prisoners?”

“We’ve sent most of the Hydra mooks to a holding area in Phoenix,” said Coulson. “They’ve got the highest security. But we’re keeping Phillips and Lemicks at the Scottsdale   
police station for now. Barton and Romanoff are already there.”

They ordered breakfast sandwiches and drinks at McDonalds and ate on their way to Scottsdale. It was Saturday morning and traffic wasn’t terrible at all. They made it to the police station at a quarter to nine. Hillary finished her orange juice as she stepped out of the car and dropped the cup into the trash can near the front entrance. It was still raining.

Michael Lemicks was going to be interrogated first. Barton and Romanoff were waiting outside of the interrogation room to watch the fun. 

“Well, well, Michael Lemicks,” said Coulson. “We meet at last. I understand you’re very good friends with my assistants here.”

Lemicks smiled. “Well yes, but unfortunately they’re not very fun to play games with.”

“Mr. Lemicks,” said Hillary, “it is no longer any use for you to deny that either you or the Free Range Party are working with Hydra. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Plenty,” Lemicks answered with a grimace. “Hydra promised they would keep me from getting recaptured. Looks like they failed.” 

Lemicks confessed that the Free Range Party in Arizona had been actively working with Hydra since last summer. Hydra had promised to help the FRP avoid trouble with the law,   
and in return the FRP would help Hydra get the legal rights to a long list of mineral resources on the Colorado Plateau--as well as do some spying on S.H.I.E.L.D.. 

“The attitude of the National FRP towards Hydra is ambivalent at best. They don’t actually approve of us working with them, but they didn’t actively stop us. None of us officially joined Hydra,” said Lemicks. “But we had a cooperative agreement. Hydra got me out of prison. They brought me here to keep me hidden. They were going to move me in a few days, but in the meantime I was their liaison--I sent their messages to the Party.” 

“So where are your other FRP friends?” asked Parsons. 

“We told them to get out of town when we knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was coming after us,” said Lemicks. “But don’t ask me to tell you who they are, or where they’re hiding.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Coulson. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Lemicks had definitely eaten his humble pie. He gave the names of the Hydra people he had worked with and what they had been doing to rebuild their organization in the   
Phoenix area--as well as who they were in contact with in other places.

“There was even one place they referred to as high command,” said Lemicks. “But don’t ask me who that was.”

“But they were definitely taking orders from somebody else?”

“That’s right,” said Lemicks.

“Did you ever hear anything about the Asset?” asked Hillary.

“Asset? What asset?” asked Lemicks.

“They were bringing it up to Phoenix.”

“I didn’t hear them talk about it much, actually,” said Lemicks. “It was something or someone they were looking for. And they were expecting a shipment for the Asset on Thursday, but I don’t think it came.”

“All right,” said Hillary. “Well, thank you for cooperating, finally.”

“Not a problem,” said Lemicks. “To be honest, I didn’t realize how much trouble it was to escape from prison. I’ll just go back and hopefully wait for a fair trial.”

Agent Parsons gave a laugh that he had to disguise rather quickly as a cough.

As the police escorted Lemicks back to his cell, Hillary privately hoped that she had seen the last of him.

The interview with Lemicks had taken until eleven thirty, which surprised Hillary because it hadn’t felt that long. But maybe it had been compared to their last meeting. The police   
officers had bagels and milk for the S.H.I.E.L.D. staff in their breakroom, and they fell on it eagerly. Hillary was tired and wanted to go home and go back to bed, but they had one   
more interrogation coming: with Max Phillips.

At five minutes to noon, the S.H.I.E.L.D. team returned to the interrogation room, and this time the two Avengers came with them. They briefed the police on the significance of   
the prisoner. At 12:01, he was brought in.

Philips had been wearing a nice suit the night before, but he had since been deprived of the blazer and tie. His shirt collar was flared out and partway unbuttoned. Hillary could see a Hydra tattoo on his chest. His hair was also unkempt and he had circles under his eyes.

“I was wondering how long you would keep me waiting,” he said. He gave them an easy smile as the police helped him to sit down.

Coulson thanked the officers and dismissed them. He was pacing. Hillary was standing against the wall, as were Barton and Romanoff. Parsons and Mitch sat at the table.  
“So tell us, how did you escape when we discovered the base the first time, back in August?” asked Parsons.

“I thought this was about the base you destroyed last night?” said Phillips.

“I want to start this from the beginning,” said Parsons sternly. “How did you and Wilmer Jr. escape last August?”

Phillips contemplated his words for a moment. Then he took a breath, and he said. “Wilmer had officially been fired from S.H.I.E.L.D. after last April. But he still had ways of getting information.”

“What ways?” asked Mitch.

“Those secrets died with him. I’m sure if you’d wanted to ask him that, you should have kept him alive.”

“Get back to the subject,” said Parsons, a bit of a growl in his voice.

“Wilmer had access to email accounts within S.H.I.E.L.D.. He kept track of the subject of communications. When the order came from D.C. last summer to take out the base in   
Arizona, he found out about it. We staged it so our assistants would be able to cover for us, give S.H.I.E.L.D. enough information to convince them Hydra was gone, then hide our   
most important resources in a few places and get out of town. Wilmer was able to get forged identities for both of us, and we went to work in San Diego.”

“And what about Carl Wimer, Sr.?” asked Hillary.

“Carl stayed in touch with his father to keep an eye on things here in Phoenix.”

“What were your codenames?”

“Wilmer Sr. is ‘Shark.’ Carl is ‘Cyclone.’ Or was, rather.” He looked a little forlorn. Hillary had to remind herself not to feel any sympathy for this guy.

“So when did you decide to start rebuilding Hydra in Phoenix?” asked Parsons.

“We had been given a mandate by the high command to come back and rebuild as soon as we could. All it took was pulling some strings at the corporate management of Resser   
Fruits and we got out here. Their business park was the perfect location, we had known that for a long time.”

“You’d been scouting out for a while,” said Coulson.

“Yeah, a while,” said Phillips. “And we spent a few months putting our people into the company. We didn’t really convince anyone to join, it was mostly outside work. And plus,   
we always have contacts outside of the organization, some people know us, some don’t.”

“So was anyone else at the Resser Fruits office a member of Hydra?” asked Hillary.

“You’ve already killed or arrested most of my people.”

“We’d like to make sure we have them all,” said Natasha.

“Fine, then. I’ll give you names.”

“You can give us names later,” said Parsons. “Let’s go back to the subject at hand. It’s my understanding that there were also more people working for Hydra in the other parts of the business complex.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy, getting people hired by those other companies.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Mitch. “According to our research Hydra has manipulated the hiring and firing at this business complex for the last six months. That’s no small achievement, getting that many people into place. And then you arrived in January. So what did you do?” 

“We started setting up a base,” said Phillips. “A lot of the heavy work had already been done. The basement was built to be a maintenance room and storage shed. Security knew   
it wasn’t used at all. And most of the people who use the parking garage didn’t even know it was there. It wasn’t easy smuggling in the furniture and the A/C unit--that I can tell   
you. We had to work mostly at night. I had people in Security working the cameras and computers to cover up for us. We did most of the office work from the Resser Fruits suite, emails and communications and such. But the parking garage we used as a storage space for weapons. Meetings. And for hiding people.”

“People like Michael Lemicks,” said Hillary.

“Exactly.”

“So let me get this straight,” Agent Kearns spoke up. “You’ve mentioned Carl Wilmer Sr. once, but I haven’t heard anybody make it clear whether he is a member of Hydra or not.”

“He is,” said Phillips. “But he never officially joined. He never took the oath or anything. Carl thought it would be a good idea if his dad stayed unofficial--he could cover for us without it actually looking suspicious himself.”

“Well, it worked too well,” said Coulson.

“So tell us about the high command that Lemicks mentioned,” said Barton.

“The what?” Philips sounded surprised, but he was clearly feigning.

“The high command. The higher-up people in Hydra who gave you your orders,” said Natasha. “Do you need me to hit you over the head and say it for you?”

“Well, what is there to know?” asked Philips, giving her a smile. His teeth were faintly yellow.

“We need to know who they are and where they are.”

Philips laughed. “You think I’m going to tell you? So you can tell your friend the Captain, and you and all your crazy friends can go wipe whatever’s left of Hydra off the map?”

“The way you talk, it sounds like it’s going to work,” said Natasha.

“Well, Carl outranked me in Hydra,” said Philips. “He actually did all of the talking with them. I don’t actually know where they are, okay?”

“I wish I could believe you,” said Natasha, in that small, snotty voice she used when she was annoyed with someone.

“Can you tell us who it is, then?” said Barton.

“Don’t ask me to,” said Philips.

“I just did,” said Barton. He was instinctively reaching for his side, as though looking for a gun or maybe a tip to put on an arrow.

“Well, like I said, it’s not my place to tell you. Carl outranked me. He was privileged to know certain information. That’s how Hydra functions, and until recently that was how   
S.H.I.E.L.D. functioned--only certain people get certain information, divide and conquer.”

“I’m certain if Hydra has learned anything it’s that that doesn’t work,” said Coulson.

“Well, I can honestly say I don’t know who the high commander is--or commanders are, if there’s more than one.”

“So there is one?” asked Natasha.

“Maybe.”

“I think we can try again at this later,” said Parsons. “Now, after you started building up again in January, what were your objectives?”

“Our base objectives were to find other places where we could work from in the Phoenix metro area,” said Philips. “We were also asked by the high command to set up a network   
of spies. We were to spy on S.H.I.E.L.D. if we could, and make preparations to destroy their office in Tempe. We had to work with the Free Range Party to get resources so we   
could build weapons and generate an income.”

“So your goal was to produce weapons for Hydra to use?” asked Coulson.

“More or less,” said Philips. “I would say it was more get Hydra access to the raw materials.”

“So what else were you doing?” asked Hillary.

“We were also working with other organizations to get money and resources--the Mexican Mafia, their local chief was very helpful to us. Emmanuel Gomez. You should write that down, agent. Them and a couple of the bigger gangs in downtown Phoenix--a club known as the Fix was watching over our archive.”

“Your archive, that’s Base A, right? The old law office?” Hillary checked.

“That is correct,” said Philips. 

“Of course, the local police took out the Fix a few weeks ago, didn’t they, now?” said Parsons, gloating a little. “Made things quite a bit easier for us, didn’t it?”

“Don’t hold your breath,” said Phillips. “We were also tasked with setting up surveillance, getting people in position so we could take care of anyone who found out that Hydra was   
mobilizing. Anyone in the Phoenix area that Hydra wanted dead or captured, they were our responsibility. Those were our official duties from the high command.”

“And then what about the Asset?” said Natasha.

“Oh, the Asset,” said Phillips, sighing like a schoolboy remembering an assignment he had scored well on. “That was one of our pet projects, Carl and me.”

“Pet projects?” asked Hillary.

“Well, a side project,” said Phillips. “We’d do stuff on our own, extra assignments, assassinations, that sort of thing to help keep the organization going even if it wasn’t necessary. But finding the Asset was the crown jewel of them all. You know, things have been tough for Hydra, since we lost the Asset.”

“I’m sure they have,” said Hillary. “Though I have it on good authority that they’re wanting to replace him.”

“Yeah, they’re trying that,” said Phillips. “But it hasn’t been the same.”

“So what did Hydra want with the Asset?” asked Kearns.

“Hydra’s official mandate is to find the Asset and to bring him back alive,” said Phillips. “But he’s a lower priority right now, what with the Avengers taking out our bases left and right. And, the sad thing is, we programmed him so well, he knows how to disappear, even from us. Or at least, that’s what we were lead to think. Until recently.”

“What happened?” asked Mitch.

“One of our contacts ran into someone who fit his description a few weeks ago,” said Phillips. “We didn’t find him until last week. He was staying with a civilian family, of all people, an unsuspecting group of--” Phillips looked up to see if his audience was amused. But then he saw the look on Hillary’s face. Her eyes were wide and her brows knit together. He saw her chest heaving under her folded arms. “But anyway, it was Marvin Stall who found him. He volunteered to stay at the house and wait for the right moment. Then he would call us out to recapture him. It was a brilliant plan. Of course, Stall let himself get caught.” Phillips cursed Stall. 

“You’re right, he should be ashamed of himself,” said Barton, “targeting an innocent civilian family.” 

But Phillips was giving Hillary a strange look. Hillary felt herself blushing. She looked at the floor.

“So you wanted to recapture the Asset,” said Parsons. “But it didn’t go well. And you also threatened the family of one of our agents here.”

“Oh really?” said Phillips. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to inconvenience anyone. When did that happen?”

“Last Saturday. It was Marvin Stall, actually, who got to her,” said Parsons. “He said he was looking for the Asset. But if I didn’t know better I’d think it was just a cover story for an assassination attempt.”

“That’s preposterous,” said Phillips. “We weren’t about to assassinate anyone at their homes.” 

“Well, you did mention a minute ago that Hydra has wanted to take out the local S.H.I.E.L.D. office,” said Barton. “It kind of sank your alibi.” 

Hillary wanted to sink through the floor.

“But tell us more about the Asset,” Natasha cut them off. “You had no directive to recapture him?”

“No, we didn’t,” said Phillips. “But he was in the area, so we thought we might as well…” Phillips laughed. “I make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. If our base were   
the ones who found him--imagine the reward. The honor. The credit we would be to all of Hydra. The time we’d lost in our plans after losing him, made up for in no time at all.”   
Hillary was wondering where Phillips was staring, but it turned out to be a blank space on the wall across the room.

“I’m sorry, my mind was wandering a little,” said Phillips, sitting up straight. “But anyway, our little cell here in Hydra had the advantage. If the high command wasn’t looking for him, then our Phoenix operation could put him to use. We could pave the way for Hydra’s rise to power across the world.”

“So it seems like you were pretty set on getting him,” said Natasha. 

“Yes, we were certain we had found him,” said Phillips. “If Stall hadn’t died, we might have captured him. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, I’d say you were,” said Barton. “In fact you went ahead and ordered some party supplies for his welcome home, didn’t you?”

“I take it you found our shipment,” said Phillips.

“Yes, we did,” said Natasha. “Where did you bring them from?”

“Mexico. Where does anyone get anything illegal?” Phillips looked to Parsons to support his argument, but Parsons only glared at him. “Hydra is still very active in Mexico, more active than S.H.I.E.L.D. could ever hope to put down. The Asset and his entourage had their own materials for prepping him. But Hydra kept backups everywhere. In the quite likely event that something like this--though, granted, we would have hoped that it would have been less than, what, six months, eight months now?”

“But how badly did you want him?” asked Coulson. Coulson stood straight, directly in front of Phillips, his hands folded behind his back, and staring down at Phillips.

Phillips’ courage should have faltered, but he continued to speak.

“If he was within reach...if he was somewhere close by, where it would be easier to find him,” said Phillips slowly, choosing his words, “then it was worth every risk, every expense. Even if our superiors did not think it was possible. Even we knew it could be difficult. But it would be worth it. Wilmer’s father...told us the greatest stories...how the Asset killed a hundred people with a single gun...how he crept through the tightest security in a government embassy to plant explosives...how he wrestled the beasts sent by Hydra’s rivals and even S.H.I.E.L.D.’s own allies to get information and killed them, broke them like their bones were no more than toothpicks…” Philips had a maniacal smile on his face as he reminisced. Hillary felt her bagels lurch up inside of her. But she took a few steps closer to the table, staring down at Phillips.

“Well why didn’t you have the guts to do all that yourself?” asked Barton.

“A man with the strength of a hundred men is a thousand times more effective. And I’ve seen him before, when he was on the cyro. He was beautiful. He was like an angel...an angel of death.”

“You know perfectly well why he was more efficient, then!” snapped Hillary, and then she leaned down on the table and slammed it with her hands. Phillips broke from his reverie and looked at her.

“You and your precious Asset,” she said, practically spitting. She felt like a dragon about to breathe fire. She had never felt so much anger and hatred swell up inside her before. She wanted Phillips to look at her and be afraid of her--to see what his corrupt desires were doing--but he stared back at her calmly. He had no remorse.

She took several shaky breaths and then stood up straight. 

“Hillary, are you okay?” said Coulson. He walked up to her and held her shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” she said, still looking at Phillips.

“Are you sure?” Coulson grabbed both of her shoulders and looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine,” said Hillary. “I mean, no, I’m not okay--but yes, I’m okay.”

“Is anything the matter?” he asked her.

“No, n-n-no, it’s nothing,” said Hillary. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need to step outside for a moment?”

“No, I want to see how this ends--sorry for the interruption, boss,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at Phillips. He eyed her with a little curiosity.

“No, you can watch through the window, Agent Tanner,” said Coulson. So he was a little irritated with her. “Just get a drink of water and calm down.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” She felt her eyes getting a little swollen. 

“That’s okay. Just take it easy and go outside.”

Hillary went to the door. Everyone else in the room was staring at her, wondering what had come over her.

“I’m sorry for the disruption, Mr. Phillips,” said Coulson politely.

“That’s all right,” said Phillips. “It’s not surprising, given...given the Asset’s...history. People get a little worked up. Sentimental.”

“Like that isn’t your problem in the first place,” said Natasha. “But since Saturday it doesn’t seem like Hydra’s been back to Agent Tanner’s house.”

“Wait, that was her family that Stall visited?” said Phillips, sitting up straight.

“Yes, it was,” said Barton. “Probably explains why she was a little testy about the issue. She was under the impression that you’d threatened her family.”

“It seems that I have,” said Phillips. His smile grew slowly wider, and he looked at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and at Barton and Romanoff. He looked like he was about to say   
something. But then Agent Parsons cut him off.

“But at what point, Mr. Phillips, did Hydra realize that it was too late to go after the Asset?”

“We were unable to send out another scout after we lost Stall,” said Phillips. “And then on Tuesday we received a tip that S.H.I.E.L.D. was on to us. Our priority was to protect the   
base from then on.”

Directly across the hall from the interrogation room was a water fountain. Hillary took a small drink. She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve. Then she stood at the window   
of the interrogation room and watched.

“Was the tip from Carl Wilmer, Sr.?” Parsons checked. 

“Yes, indeed, it was,” Phillips nodded eagerly. “But you were still expecting the shipment from Mexico?”

“Yes, we were,” said Phillips. “As long as we had the base we would have a place to keep it. We already knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was coming. The prepping materials were a small loss, but it is no matter now. Hydra has lost everything in the area.”

“So who is base Lambda?” asked Natasha. “Was that your reinforcements that showed up last night?”

“Yes,” said Phillips. “Base Lambda is set in Las Vegas. They were established only a few months ago, but as you can see they have already grown in numbers. We called them up on Thursday night, after your, well, incursion into the Resser Fruits company office.”

“Right, Las Vegas,” said Natasha. “Can we get an address? And we need you to start giving us the names of the people in your base, too.”

“Yes, of course--unless there was anything else you wished to ask me about.”

“No, I think that covers it,” said Natasha. She looked around at the men in the room, and they all nodded at her.

Max Phillips gave them the address for the Hydra facility in Las Vegas. Then he started rattling off the names of the people who had been working for him in Scottsdale. With   
each person mentioned he listed their civilian occupations and what their responsibilities were for Hydra, if any. Parsons asked questions and Mitch took notes. Parsons asked whether or not each person was at the battle on Friday night. There had been thirty people total from the Scottsdale cell, and Lambda accounted for another twenty-five, Parsons said. Four of the people he named--three men and a woman--had been sent on an errand by Carl Wilmer, Jr. on Wednesday but had not been accounted for at the fight. Phillips denied knowing what they had been doing. Coulson said they would keep an eye out.

Hillary listened very carefully at the one-way window. Most of the people that Mark Lawson had named to her the other night were on Phillips’ list somewhere. But Mark’s name was never called. She was so relieved when Phillips got to the end. 

Mark had been telling the truth.

Coulson finally called for the police to bring out Phillips. Afterward, Barton, Natasha, and the weary S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel came out of the interrogation room. Barton, Natasha,   
Kearns, and Parsons went to the breakroom. Hillary watched them go.

Coulson was next to last to come out. He looked at Hillary, wondering if she had anything to say about what she had observed. But she just nodded to him. She was looking better now.

He walked up to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Just...upset.” She gave a sigh. “I can’t believe he’d just talk like that…”

“About what? Bucky?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Coulson paused. He wanted to ask her if she knew anything about Bucky. But he decided not to. Hillary’s family had been threatened and she was taking it very hard.   
Asking the wrong questions would just make it harder for her, there was always the risk for that.

“Why don’t you just take the rest of the day off?” he said. “You can go home and spend some time with your family. I’m sure you need it. I’ll see you in the office. Nine on Monday.”

Hillary nodded. Coulson walked away.

Mitch was the last to come out. He stopped and looked at Hillary, who was leaning against the window and looking dejected.

“Are you okay?” asked Mitch. He stepped up close to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” said Hillary. “I’m sorry I kind of lost it back there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you for being upset,” said Mitch. “The way he talked, threatening to kill us all like it was no big deal, and then hurting your family because of   
some...asset. That guy’s messed up.”

“Yeah. I’d like to punch his lights out.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. So, uh, your friend Mark Lawson wasn’t on the list he gave.”

Hillary smiled. “I was listening. But that’s still the best news I’ve heard all day. I’ve got a date with him.”

“Oh really? When?”

“I don’t know. He wants to take me to the Mesa Easter Pageant. And that reminds me, I need to go arrange something with Coulson for that.”

“You wanna go do that right now? Coulson’s not very happy with this guy, either. He could use some cheering up.”

“I’ll bet he could.” 

Hillary’s lips were moving, but her thoughts were elsewhere. And she was feeling like crying again.

“Are you gonna be okay?” asked Mitch.

“Yeah, I just...need some time alone,” said Hillary. “To calm down.” 

Mitch nodded. There was a long pause between them.

And then Mitch said, “It seems like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Hillary just looked at him. She wanted to ask him how much he knew, how much he had already guessed, if he had even told Coulson any of it. But she looked away, bitter tears in her eyes. 

“All right,” said Mitch, patting her shoulder. “I won’t ask.”

She just let him walk away. 

A part of her wanted to follow him and fling her arms around him and sob on his shoulder. A part of her wanted to tell him, to tell Coulson, to tell Barton and Natasha and the   
others--tell them everything. Tell them why she had been so angry with Phillips. Tell them why Hydra had threatened her family.

There wouldn’t be a better time to tell them. Coulson would understand now. Barton and Natasha would call Steve and tell him, and Steve would be sympathetic. 

Yet she had promised Bucky that she wouldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want Steve Rogers to find him. And he didn’t need that. Now wasn’t the time. 

Bucky was trapped, Hillary realized. So very trapped. Even on the run from Hydra, Hydra could still get close to finding him. And Hydra still had the resources--even in its broken, scattered condition--to destroy his mind, to hurt him the way no human being should ever be hurt. And she didn’t want that to happen to him ever again.

Was she helping Bucky to stay safe, with her silence? It was a question she had asked herself before, but now she was being serious about it: was she really doing the right thing?   
Did her hiding everything make it worse for him, worse for everyone?

Hillary looked at her reflection in the window, and then into the interrogation space beyond. 

Was Bucky caught in a trap of his own making, for wanting to stay hidden? And was she caught in it as well?

 

The clock in the breakroom read fifteen minutes to three. It had been a long day for everyone, and a long week, as a matter of fact. 

“Well, I’m glad we were able to finish this up,” said Parsons. “It’s been a week since the Tanners were attacked. That’s got to be a new record for closing up an incident.”

“This is far from over,” said Clint Barton. “You’ve still got to interrogate all those people who were working with them, and then of course the legal proceedings will start.”

“I wasn’t referring to that--”

“I know,” said Barton. “And then Hydra, of course, won’t live this down. The high command, whatever they are, will be furious. They’ll want revenge.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” said Agent Kearns, “but if you ask me I think it’ll be a long time before Hydra comes back here.”

“Well, you guys just be on your guard,” said Clint. 

“We will,” said Parsons. 

Coulson walked around to the coffee maker to refill his cup.

“Peculiar, isn’t it?” Kearns said to Parsons.

“What’s peculiar?”

“The fact that Hillary called the Winter Soldier their ‘precious asset.’”

“Oh that,” Parsons said. 

Coulson turned around and sipped his coffee, watching the two agents at the table.

“Well, the way Phillips talked about him,” said Parsons, “it did sound like they really wanted him. Well, no, wanted is too soft of a word--they coveted him.”

“The Winter Soldier’s feats were second to none,” said Coulson. “Everywhere he showed up, it was guaranteed to be a bloodbath. He killed...he destroyed...he was powerful.   
Deadly. I’ve seen what he can do.”

“Whoever controlled him controlled the world,” said Parsons. “He was the ultimate weapon.”

“Yeah, I can see why Hydra would think of him as ‘precious,’” said Kearns. “One asset to ‘rule them all.’”

“Are you going to get a report to Captain Rogers?” Coulson asked Natasha, who was on her phone.

“I just barely texted him to say we were finished interrogating,” said Natasha, putting her phone away. “We’ll tell him everything in person.”

“And when are you headed back?”

“Tonight,” said Barton. “Steve will want us back to help him as soon as possible.”

“Do you think he’d mind if I took you guys to dinner?” asked Coulson.

“Oh, he wouldn’t like that at all,” said Natasha.

“Nonsense, he wouldn’t begrudge us a little feeding time,” said Barton.

Coulson looked at Parsons and Kearns. “Is there anyplace around here that would be good enough for taking the Avengers out to eat?”

Parsons and Kearns had a debate about the best places in the Phoenix area for eating out. Some of the police officers came into the break room while they talked and added their suggestions. Natasha and Barton and Coulson settled on a place and a time, and the two Avengers excused themselves to go get ready for dinner and their departure afterward.   
Parsons decided to go talk to the police chief about getting an arrest warrant for Carl Wilmer, Sr., while Kearns took Hillary Tanner back to Tempe. That left Coulson and Mitch alone, sitting at the table. All of the bagels had been eaten, and there were just some empty boxes and half-used containers of cream cheese left between them.

“So you think it’s been a good week?” Coulson asked him.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s been productive,” said Mitch. Mitch was worried about Hillary. He stared at the table, wondering what she was hiding.

Coulson must have guessed what he was thinking. “I told Agent Tanner she could go home.”

“That’s--that’s good,” said Mitch, nodding slightly.

“Tell you what,” said Coulson, “you’ve had a long week. Why don’t you go home to California for a few days. Me and Agent Tanner will finish this out. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Mitch. 

Mitch felt like there wasn’t any real reason he shouldn’t tell Coulson about what he suspected about Hillary. Her behavior in the interrogation room had been strange. And if there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head, it was the fact that Retniw is Winter spelled backwards. There was a strong probability that Hillary was more upset about Hydra almost finding the Asset than she was saying.

“Is everything all right?” asked Coulson. He gave Mitch a look of friendly concern.

No, now isn’t the time, Mitch thought to himself. Things are bad enough.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Mitch. He gave his boss an uneasy smile.

He looked at his hands folded on the table. He remembered something Agent Barton had said to him earlier that week about Romanoff.

Love is for children. I owe her a debt.

This may well have summarized his feelings toward Hillary, Mitch realized. Hillary and Jason Retniw--whoever that turned out to be--had saved his life, the last time he had come   
to Phoenix. If Retniw wanted to keep his identity a secret, then Mitch would help him. He owed him that much. And he owed Hillary even more.


	16. Bucky Comes Home

In the mountains above Payson, the clouds cleared away in the middle of Saturday morning, and there was an immediate thaw. The snow that had blanketed the ground the previous afternoon disappeared within minutes, except for in tall piles around the trunks of the trees.. The ground was moist but not muddy. Kenny had to run to town again, and while he was gone Bucky went outside with Ace to play fetch and to walk through the woods. 

Bucky and Ace were taking a rest on the porch when Kenny returned around four in the afternoon.

“I’ve got some good news, Bucky,” said Kenny as he climbed up the steps. “Trey Tanner called. He said to tell you that it’s safe to come home now.”

“Was that all?”

“That was all,” said Kenny.

Home. Was that what the Tanner’s home was to him now? Is that what Mesa, Arizona had become?

He had to admit to himself, he’d grown fond of this little cabin in the woods. If he ever got the chance...maybe after he’d figured out what to do with his life, maybe if he’d settled down somewhere else...he would come back to this place for a visit. Maybe in the middle of summer, when it was warmer. Ace and Kenny would be here, and so would Hillary and Trey and Jo, and perhaps they could bring the older kids and the grandkids, they weren’t too bad. But he’d enjoyed the solitude almost as much. It was just nice, to get away from the rush of things down in the Valley. But for once, instead of not wanting to leave, he felt better about going back to where he had come from. It helped a lot that it was safe to go back--that probably meant that the Hydra cell had been destroyed. But he was thrilled that Hillary’s family--and he thought of them almost as his family--would be there waiting for him.

A year ago, he’d been a murderer and an assassin with no place in the world, no person to claim him. It was astounding, how different things were now.

He had a home.

 

Hillary didn’t know what to do with herself when she got home, finally. She rotated her laundry. She sat down at the computer and checked her Facebook--a lot had happened in the last few days. She saw that Mark Lawson had updated his location to Scottsdale, Arizona and his employer to Resser Fruits, Inc.--though how long that would last, Hillary couldn’t say. He didn’t post much on his Facebook otherwise. 

She was beginning to feel she’d had her fill of social media for the moment when she got a text. It was from Mitch.

Mitch: So Coulson is sending me home to California for the rest of the weekend. I’m under the impression that he’s staying in Mesa for a few more days?

Hillary: Yeah, he is. I’m going to help him and S.H.I.E.L.D. get things settled. It was sure great working with you this week.

Mitch: You too. I know it must have been stressful with everything that had happened with your family. I’m glad I was there to help you out.

Hillary: I appreciate it.

Mitch: Well, I do owe you.

Hillary: You don’t owe me squat.

Mitch: Right. ;) So is Jason Retniw going to be coming back to town, now that Hydra’s taken care of?

Hillary: Yes, he will be.

Mitch: Well, say hi to him for me, if you see him.

Hillary: I’ll do that. You have fun with your family.

Mitch: and you with yours. I’ll see you soon.

Hillary: See ya.

Hillary wasn’t sure what that meant. She was slightly alarmed that he had mentioned Bucky. She wished she hadn’t been so definite about saying he was coming back. But she thought she needed to give Mitch the benefit of a doubt. If he knew anything, he would have said something, right? Or maybe he did know, and he was going to respect her silence. That was a little too much to hope for, though. She would have preferred he didn’t know anything at all. She knew Mitch wasn’t stupid, however. Neither was Coulson. Neither was Hydra. Neither were Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff--especially those two. They would tell Steve Rogers everything. 

But she knew it was better to let go of her doubts. She went out for the afternoon with her parents. Jon and Marie came over for dinner that night. Hillary helped her mother clean house while listening to the “Les Miserables” soundtrack. She went to bed early. She went to church the next morning with her parents. She interacted normally with the other people in her church congregation. She was grateful that Hydra had been stopped. The world hadn’t ended. Her life would go on as normal...that is, until Bucky got home that evening. 

That afternoon, after Sunday dinner with her parents, she touched the piano for the first time since coming home nearly two weeks ago. She played the hymns she’d heard in church that day just so she could hear them again, and then she worked her way through her favorites in the hymnbook. Later on she played Broadway and Disney songs--the fun music did wonders for her spirit. 

At seven, John and Marie and Mike and Susan and all of their kids came over for cake and ice cream--it was Maddie’s birthday on Monday. Hillary’s sister-in-law Susan was massively pregnant and spent most of the evening on the couch.

Around the same time the party started, Trey took Hillary aside and told her he’d gotten a phone call from Kenny. “They’re on their way,” he said.

The traffic coming from Payson must not have been terrible that night. At eight-thirty Trey got a text from Kenny--or rather, Bucky from Kenny’s phone--saying that Kenny   
would swing by Trey’s house to return “the goods”--meaning the chainsaw and the ex-assassin. 

At eight forty-five, the children were on the floor playing with Maddie’s new toys, the parents were on the couch talking, and the Trey and Jo and Mike were in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes. Hillary was sitting at the bar, replying to a text from Coulson reminding her to come in for work at nine tomorrow morning. 

The back door opened. Uncle Kenny was crossing the threshold just as his great dane Ace came pattering past him onto the kitchen floor. Ace was panting excitedly, as he nosed through the kitchen, and he finally came up to the children in the living room.

“That’s a big doggie!” shouted Oliver.

“Nice doggie,” said Linsey, standing up and backing away.

Maddie hadn’t gotten up in time and was getting licked in the face by Ace.

“Ow! The dog is licking me!”

“Ace! Come back here!” 

Ace desisted from licking the birthday girl and went to his master’s side.

Kenny was standing in the kitchen talking to Jo and Trey. The back door was still open. Hillary would glance up occasionally. 

“Where’s Bucky at?” asked Trey.

“He’s putting the chainsaw away for you,” said Kenny.

Hillary was watching her parents and her uncle chatting when she heard footsteps. There he was. She slid off her bar stool.

Bucky wasn’t smiling when he came in the house, but Hillary could tell he was happy to be there.

Jo walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

“Welcome home, son,” said Trey, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” said Bucky. Then he looked at Hillary.

Hillary didn’t say anything. He dropped his duffel bag. She just walked up to him and gave him a hug. Here he was, home, safe at last.

Kenny sat down at the dining table with Hillary’s parents. But Hillary and Bucky stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, hugging for a long time. 

“It’s good to be home,” he said.

“I know,” said Hillary. Then she pulled away. “Is this your home?”

“I guess so. Why not?”

“You...you know there’s this guy named Steve Rogers, who’s out looking for you. I’m sure he could help you find a home, if you needed one.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Hillary, you keep saying that finding Steve Rogers is going to make me happy. Well, I don’t know about that. But I do know that I don’t need to go looking   
anywhere for happiness. I have all the happiness I could want right here.” He smiled at her. 

She couldn’t help smiling back. 

“C’mere.” He pulled her in for another tight hug, so tight that he picked her up off the ground.

“Ooh..okay then,” said Hillary, not really sure how to respond. When he let go of her, finally, she said, “Want some cake and ice cream? It’s Maddie’s birthday today.”

“All right.”

Hillary dished him up some dessert as Kenny came and said goodbye to Bucky. Hillary hadn’t expected them to hug, but they did. And then Bucky managed to get Ace to do a   
handshake. 

“You three seem to have gotten close,” Hillary said to Bucky as they sat down at the bar after Kenny left.

“Yeah, we did. I had a lot of fun up there.”

“Oh, and by the way,” said Hillary, “my friend Mitch, you remember him?”

“Yes?”

“He said to tell you hi.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hello back.”

Hillary grabbed her phone.

Jason said to tell you hello back.

Hillary was pretty sure Mitch had gotten the text, but he never responded. 

Bucky put his bag away in Cody’s bedroom. Mike and Jon left with their families, and the house was quiet. Bucky told Hillary about his weekend at the cabin, including how he had watched Beauty and the Beast and then the DVD of her stage performance as Belle.

“Wow, I’d forgotten we left that tape up there,” said Hillary. “I’ll have to go back and get it sometime.”

Hillary started giving Bucky the details about how S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken down the Hydra base. 

“So you called the Avengers. How did that go?”

“Well, I was careful not to mention you. Steve Rogers and the rest were busy taking out a Hydra base in the Caribbean, but two of them--Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton--agreed to come and help us.”

“Natasha I’ve heard of. I think I tried to kill her once.”

“Twice, actually,” said Hillary.

“Oh.” 

They stared at each other awkwardly for a second.

“What?” asked Bucky.

“If this is how you relate to people, then you seriously need to get a life.” 

“Probably. But did Rogers ask any questions about me? Did he suspect I was here?”

“No, and Romanoff and Barton didn’t suspect, either. But--well, let me tell you about the undercover thing, first.” Hillary told Bucky about how she and Black Widow had gone   
undercover into the Hydra base. Bucky was really trying hard not to laugh when Hillary described her outfit.

“Yeah, I really would’ve liked to have taken a picture, Bucky. Would’ve been nice to show you.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” said Bucky. “Please, continue.”

She finished telling him about the office in Scottsdale, but glossed over the part about seeing Mark there. She would get to that. 

“But right after we’d finished, we got a phone call,” said Hillary. “One of our agents down on the Mexican border had found something Hydra was smuggling. They had it brought   
up to Phoenix, and we went to investigate--me and Coulson and Barton and Romanoff.” She wasn’t quite sure how to continue.

“What was it?”

She wanted to just spit it out. But she didn’t want to scare her friend. “I don’t...I’m not even sure I should say what it was...dang it, I should have just skipped this part.” 

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“Oh, it’s just so horrible. I can’t--”

“Just tell me, please.”

She looked him in the eyes. Then she looked down at the counter. “They were bringing prepping materials...for the Asset. For you.”

Hillary knew the look on his face--he’d had the same look when Marvin Stall had killed himself in their backyard last week. It was like the Bucky she knew was being slowly   
drained away.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. He looked away from her, leaning on the bar with his good arm. She reached across to take his hand. 

“I’m just going to tell you, then, what Hydra was planning to do with you. You have the right to know.”

“Please. Go ahead.”

Hillary gave him every horrible detail that Max Phillips had confessed on Saturday. She also told him that S.H.I.E.L.D. was convinced that Stall had targeted Hillary for information   
about the Asset. “But I’m not sure how convinced they were, to be honest.”

“So what happened on Friday?”

“Good question,” said Hillary. “We spent all day planning and getting ready. And when night fell, we attacked. Hawkeye--that’s Agent Barton’s codename--he shot an arrow into   
the garage that had a bomb in it. And then Black Widow broke into the base. But Hydra’s reinforcements arrived right when we were getting started. The SWAT team helped us out but it was still a lot of work.” She took a breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever killed that many people in one setting. At least, I hope I didn’t kill all of them. I just...shot a lot of people. I gave a few of them injuries with my fists and my feet. But I’m not a killer. I only did it to protect my family--and so you could be safe.”

“Well, try not to dwell on it, then.” He was squeezing her hand back.

“I don’t,” said Hillary. “It just comes back and haunts me whenever I don’t want it to. And in my sleep. But you know the feeling, don’t you?”

“Too well,” said Bucky. “But, it’s not...it’s not uncommon, for someone in your profession, to have to kill people. You know, I did a little research on myself once. I was a sniper   
on Captain America’s team, the Howling Commandoes. I killed a lot of people, even then. But I was a soldier, it’s what I did. But...that still made me good Asset material.”

“Oh, no, don’t think of it like that,” said Hillary, leaning across the bar. “You were a good person then, and you still are, now. Don’t think of yourself that way.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” He smiled and gave her a tap on the shoulder. “Cheer up.” 

Bucky got up and put his dish in the sink. “So the Avengers, are they still around?”

“Nope, they went back last night. But I don’t think they know anything.”

Bucky turned around and looked at her, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I’m being optimistic.”

Bucky dried his hands. “And is Director Coulson still around?”

“Yeah. He’s going to help the Tempe office with the paperwork and such. And I’m going to be doing it with him for part of next week, looks like. That reminds me, though.”

“Of what?” asked Bucky, returning to his seat.

“I talked to Director Coulson, about what happened with Emily Bridger.”

“Oh, okay.” 

“He, uh, well...Coulson told me that you met her again in San Antonio, after you escaped. Is that true?”

“What did he say?” Bucky pressed his lips together.

“Well...he said you saved her life. She messaged you with the Force--well, no, he said she was able to reach out to you with her mind, and that got you to come and help her.” 

Bucky didn’t have a response.

“Is that what happened?”

“More or less.” He paused for a moment, a little lost for words. “So...what you’re saying is, that the thing she was able to do to my mind, to reach out to me--that was the actual   
Force?”

“I guess so.” Hillary folded her arms.

“So then the Force exists?”

“Well, I think it probably does. That doesn’t make anything else you or I believe about the world to be any less true. But Star Wars is a true story--that galaxy is out there,   
somewhere. And Emily brought a little of it with her. That’s the only explanation.”

“But how come I was able to feel it?” asked Bucky. “How come if only she could use it, she could get it to touch someone else?”

“That’s a little harder to answer,” said Hillary. “Coulson told me that she was able to talk with him telepathically sometimes. And Steve Rogers has said that she could do it with   
him, too. But you...Coulson said that she said it had never come to her so clearly before. She said it felt stronger, when it was leading her to find you. She could see where you   
were, and where you were going, even from a distance. Coulson says it was the closest she ever got to being a Jedi again.”

“But how did that happen because of me?”

“Coulson says he wasn’t sure what it meant. Clint Barton thought that maybe it was because she was so close to Steve, and finding you was important to Steve. But I don’t buy it. I think there might have been something else at work there.”

A part of her wanted to tell Bucky that Emily’s connection to him was unusually strong, even for what she knew about Jedi and Star Wars and how the Force worked. She had a hunch that it wasn’t so much Emily as it was him. But Bucky had enough on his plate already.

“But what does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Hillary shook her head. 

“And whatever happened to Emily Bridger?”

“Last fall,” Hillary began, “She went on a trip to another world--Thor, one of the Avengers, she went to the place where he was from. There was something weird going on there, and she was...asked to help. And then she didn’t come back.”

“Was she supposed to?”

“Yes, she went there to rescue someone. The person being rescued came back all right, but she didn’t. No one knows what happened. She probably got killed.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal. I...we were friends in S.H.I.E.L.D. school. Her and me and Rogers all ran around in the same group. We weren’t that close, though.”

“That’s too bad.”

Hillary sighed. “It’s after ten o’clock. I’m feeling the need to go to bed.”

“Well, goodnight, then,” said Bucky as they got up.

“I guess you’ll be heading back to the garage tomorrow?” asked Hillary. 

“Yeah, during the day, at least,” said Bucky as he stretched. “But I think, if you’re going to be around for a couple of days, why not sleep here? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” said Hillary. “Hey, that reminds me. I’ve got a date.”

“Whoa, when did this happen?”

“Last week?”

“Is it with Mitch?”

“No, ew, it’s with an old friend of mine.” Hillary started to tell Bucky about Mark. He leaned against the couch and listened to her.

“And are you absolutely sure he’s not Hydra?”

“I’m positive he’s not.”

“Are you a hundred percent, dyed-in-the-wool, honestly positively sure that he isn’t?”

“Yes, I am!” she said. 

“But you’re sure?”

“Yes. And you’re annoying.”

“I’m just trying to look after you.”

“Who, me? I can look after myself. I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to save your own hide.”

“I can manage,” said Bucky, holding up his hands in protest.

“Ha. Get to bed, loser.”

“All right then. You lead the way.” He stood up and he hugged her sideways as they went down the hallway.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” 

They shared the bathroom while they got ready for bed. They didn’t say anything, but did a lot of smiling and winking at each other. Then they whispered goodnight one more   
time before finally going into their rooms.

And Hillary felt that having Bucky home made everything complete.

 

Phil Coulson: So among other things we learned in our investigation, Bucky must have been in Mesa at one point not too long ago.

Steve Rogers: Considering the evidence, it was very recently. And then he got out of town as soon as Hydra had wind of him. Thanks for keeping an eye out for me. We’re going to be in the Virgin Islands for another few days. I don’t know if I’m going to be getting a break anytime soon. It seems like I might have to let this one go. But Sam Wilson’s been keeping track of leads. He might be able to do something.

Phil Coulson: I’ll let him know. You just keep on taking out Hydra. You and the Avengers are doing great. And thanks again for letting me borrow Natasha and Clint for a few days.

Steve Rogers: Not a problem. 

Phil Coulson: Makes sense, though, that Bucky would have liked hiding in Mesa.

Steve Rogers: Yeah, considering the warmer climate. And it’s a big metropolitan area. It would be the perfect place to hide. Golly, there wasn’t anything out in Phoenix in the forties!

Phil Coulson: I’ve heard more than a few complaints like that. But I’ll text Wilson and see what he thinks. Take care, Captain.

Steve Rogers: You too, Director.

 

Everyone at the Tempe S.H.I.E.L.D. office was a little the worse for wear after the rough weekend. But Coulson was in a good mood, now that Hydra had been evicted from its secret lodgings in Scottsdale. Coulson, Parsons, and Kearns went out to Phoenix to do interrogations while Hillary stayed behind to hold down the fort while those who stayed behind tried to research the extent of Hydra’s connections in the area as well as damage control with the owners of the parking garage.

Hillary didn’t have the chance to tell Coulson about her prospective date, then, until after he came back that afternoon. Coulson, pleased that Mark Lawson had turned out to not be Hydra, told Hillary he would give her Easter Weekend off, as well as the weekend two weeks after--that was when her brother Cody was coming home from Germany.

Hillary got home late that evening, but she was surprised when she entered to see Bucky sitting at the dining table with her parents and Greg and Julia. They were playing Uno.

She put her purse down and then went over to the table to say hello to everyone.

“How was work today?” asked Jo.

“It went all right,” said Hillary. 

“I’ll bet it was quiet after all of the excitement last week,” said Trey.

“Ha ha. Actually a slow day working for S.H.I.E.L.D. is a good day. But I did schedule time off for when Cody comes home. I also have Easter Weekend off.”

“Which days?” asked Jo.

“Saturday and Sunday. And I’m going to the Easter Pageant on that Saturday. With my friend Mark.”

Her brother-in-law Greg poked his head up. “Wait, with who?” 

“My friend Mark. I knew him when I lived in D.C., but he’s working out here now.” She suddenly remembered that she hadn’t told her family yet about Mark.

“So is this a date?” asked Julia.

“I guess it is,” said Hillary.

“You guess?” said Trey. “It sounds like it meets all the criteria to me.” 

“Wait, who is this?” asked Jo. “Is this the guy who came over to talk to you on Thursday night?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Wait, time out!” said Bucky, gaping at her. “You told me about this guy but you didn’t tell your parents?”

“Look, I wasn’t expecting him to ask me,” said Hillary, holding up her hands in defense. “I’ll have to tell you guys more later. But suffice it to say I will be home on Easter   
weekend.” 

“Well how about that,” said Jo. “You don’t get dates very often, do you, dear?”

“No, I don’t,” said Hillary, sitting down.

“I wonder why,” Bucky muttered under his breath. 

Hillary shoved him with her elbow. He shoved her back.

“You jerk, Bucky.” 

“It takes one to know one.”

Hillary groaned. “It’s bad enough I go to work and I have to come home and see you while I’m still in town.” 

“Chances are you’ll get sick of the sight of me before too long,” said Bucky cooly.

“I think I might. Deal me in, Greg.” 

Hillary joined her family at their game of Uno. Julia ended up winning the round.

“So Jon and Marie left here just before you arrived,” said Jo while the cards were dealt for the next hand. “They came for dinner. But Maddie wasn’t too interested in playing   
games with us.”

“Well, what happened was, Maddie wanted to watch a movie right after dinner,” said Greg. “So she put on Mulan. And Bucky watched with her, too--apparently he hasn’t seen it before.”

Hillary looked at Bucky, and he nodded at her.

“Fun movie,” he said. 

“We started playing when Maddie was about halfway through,” said Julia as she dealt the cards. “She was a little interested in playing at first. But playing cards as a kid is never   
fun when you have to share cards with mommy.” She shook her head. “So she went back to her movie and that was that.” 

“But I stayed and played,” said Bucky.

“Well done,” said Hillary as they picked up their cards. “Have you won any yet?”

“I haven’t, but I’m eager to keep trying.”

“‘Do, or do not; there is no try,’” Hillary quoted.

Hillary’s parents and siblings laughed, but Bucky gave her a wry smile.

“Very funny, Master Yoda. If only winning at Uno were as easy as that.” 

The way the round went, Bucky did get to call Uno at one point, but then Hillary played a Draw 2 on him.

“That’s it, dishonor!” he shouted, pushing his chair out and standing up. “Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!”

Everyone burst out laughing. Except for Hillary.

She stood up to him and said, “We’re in a WAR, man! This isn’t the time for stupid questions!”

And then she laughed. She patted Bucky on the shoulder as they sat down.

“No hard feelings, it’s just a game,” she said. “I haven’t seen Mulan in forever, actually.” 

The family got back to playing. It was Jo who ended up carrying the round.

But the next round, Hillary was about to play Uno when Bucky said, “Uno.” He laid down a card that matched the number rather than the color. 

“Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!” muttered Hillary as she drew. She was really counting on Greg or Julia or one of her parents to change the color again and keep Bucky from going out.   
Her father laid down another matching number. But Bucky happened to have his last card in the same color.

“Finally!” he said eagerly.

Hillary groaned and threw her remaining three cards onto the stack. “I let them slip through my fingers!”

Greg and Julia had to go home after that, but before they went Julia made Hillary give her all of the details about Mark. Hillary shared them eagerly--well, minus the fact that last   
week he had been implicated to be working for Hyda. After her sister and her brother-in-law left, Hillary got herself something to eat. Bucky entertained her with talk about his   
day at the garage. 

“It was my first time being there in a while. Pablo and Benny and Adam all missed me.”

“I’ll bet they did,” said Hillary.

When Hillary had eaten, she sat down at the piano. 

“Do you have any requests?” Hillary asked Bucky.

“No,” he said as he sat down on the armchair behind the piano bench. “I can just listen for a while.”

“Fine.” Hillary played “Reflection,” since it was from Mulan.

“That was lovely,” said Bucky when she’d finished. “Actually, you know what, I do have a request. The theme song from Beauty and the Beast.”

“Okay,” said Hillary. She knew how to play that by heart. 

Bucky got up and stood over the piano bench. “Do you mind if I--”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Have a seat.”

Bucky sat down on the piano bench next to her.

“Did you know how to play the piano once?” asked Hillary.

“I don’t know,” said Bucky. “It just sounds nice.” 

“Well, then,” said Hillary, “maybe one of these days I’ll show you how to play again. See if it’ll jog your memory.”

“You know, if I had a dollar for every time someone said they’d like to jog my memory, I’d be able to buy my own piano.”

“Where would you keep it?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere, I guess. Someday.”

Hillary smiled. And she started playing.

Certain as the sun  
rising in the east  
tale as old as time  
song as old as rhyme  
Beauty and the Beast.

Tale as old as time,  
song as old as rhyme,  
Beauty and the Beast.


End file.
